


Little Black Book

by anamatics



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Case Fic, Drama, F/F, Family, First Time, Kid Fic, Present Tense, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-19
Updated: 2011-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamatics/pseuds/anamatics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a young boy witnesses the brutal murder of his foster mother and sister over Labor Day weekend, he takes something from the murderer. This little black book holds more than the key to solving the crime, however, and he and the book bring Jane and Maura closer than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy in the Closet

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Deals with child neglect, disturbing imagery, nasty murders, and naturally, hot lesbian sex.
> 
> Notes: This is planned to be nine parts, with the plot fairly well mapped out. Will be x-posting to fanfiction.net and will respond to reviews both here and there. Takes place sometime within canon but not after the S1 finale.

They're singing in the car, on their way to a crime scene. Frost is playing air drums on the dash and Jane is tapping her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. They've been sitting around all day, waiting for something to happen, catching up on paperwork and poking around into some cold case files over lunch. The call at three twenty two had been a wonderful reprieve from what would have been, in Jane's opinion, a wasted day.

"Oh-blah-dee, oh-blah-dah," They're almost laughing while singing along to The Beatles. Frost's iPod is like an epileptic fit of varying musical genres. Jane likes it that way, and the radio tuner that she got a few months ago for their cruiser has been a wonderful investment. They could get in the car, get stuck in Boston downtown traffic and just jam to pretty much any sort of music under the sun. Frost has it all. "Life goes on right!"

The music isn't up too loud, and the scanner is rattling off codes in the background. Jane is half-paying attention to it when she hears a code that she fucking hates hearing. Children involved, CPS contacted.

Fuck.

Jane cuts off the radio with a jab of her finger and stares moodily out at the traffic they're stuck in. This is the fastest and most efficient way to get to the crime scene and Frost is already fiddling with the GPS in his phone to see if there's a faster way to get them to where they need to be. Her lights are on, but the siren isn't. There's no way that they could move out of this traffic, not at this time of day just before a holiday weekend.

"Go left at Albany," Frost says. He's fished a city map out of her glove box and is consulting it and comparing it to the traffic report that Jane can see that he's pulled up on his phone. "That's fairly clear and then you can take it to Melnea Cass and then we should be good to go."

Jane nods, and does the driving she needs to do in order to get them to the crime scene as fast as possible. She's trying to not think about the children, about how they might be dead. The call had said multiple victims.

She hopes they're not dead. Maura will be a wreck if there are dead children. She always is.

When they turn onto Aspen Street, it is alive with flashing blue and white lights as the day starts to fade. It is late summer; the heat is oppressive, even by Boston's standards. Frost is out of the car faster than Jane and he's already talking to the uniformed officer posted at the edge of perimeter.

Frost is joking with him, telling him both of their badge numbers and their division with a bright smile and a worried look in his eyes. Jane follows him in with a nod to the uni - (he's a Roxbury cop perhaps - she doesn't know him) and slipping under the tape. Her feet hit gravel and she looks up at the three story building and wagers that they're probably going to have to go up to the third floor because that is just how life in homicide works.

"'Bout time ya got here,” Vince Korsak calls from the doorway of the building. It's strange to see him standing on a front porch as though he owns the place, hands on his hips and bossing people around. Jane secretly thinks he likes it. "The press is gunna have a field day with this one."

Jane groans, and pulls a pair of plastic gloves out of her pocket. "What've we got?" She asks as Frost does the same with his own gloves (although she notices that his are green - where the fuck did he get green gloves?).

"Double." Korsak says quietly, stepping inside the building and glancing around. "Mom and a little girl. There was another kid here, hid in the closet and heard the whole thing. Not the vic's kid though. She fostered him. CPS is talking to him now, but they're probably not going to let the kid leave until 'e makes a statement."

"Shit." Jane glances around, noticing that the forensic techs are already combing the stairway leading up to the second floor apartment. Lucky break for them. "Is Maura already here?" If Maura was alone and dealing with a dead little girl Jane needed to be there, for moral support.

"She's on her way, said she was in Providence giving a talk or something." Korsak shrugs. "We've got enough to deal with before we touch them anyway. The place is tossed so collecting any trace evidence is gunna be a bitch and a half. We've just closed the doors to the room where the bodies are until the Doc can get here. Shouldn't be long now, traffic going into the city isn't so bad on 93 right now."

Jane nods and Frost mutters, "Good plan," before stepping off to speak to one of the forensic techs about what they've found.

She steps aside and pulls the uni at the door close, "Holler when Doc Isles gets here okay?" The guy looks confused, so Jane adds, "Look for stupidly impractical shoes."

Korsak shakes his head and Jane rolls her eyes at him, heading up the stairs gingerly. They've been cleared, and the forensic team is now checking the walls and banisters for fingerprints. Jane can see a lot of smudges and little else.

Today, she realizes, is going to turn into a very long day.

The door to the second floor apartment has been ripped clean off of its hinges. Korsak says it was like that when the first responder arrived and Jane whistles low. So much anger would suggest a personal crime, but there's something about the way that the apartment has been meticulously ransacked that is bothering Jane. She flips over a chair after the forensic guy photographs it and sits down, hand on her chin and thinking.

"There's something off," she says at length.

Everyone in the room turns to share at her and she sighs, flipping open her notebook and beginning to jot down her initial impressions of the crime scene.

The victims are in the bedroom. There's technically two, but the other one is for children and also serves as a play room. Jane reasons this by the toys strewn about the room and the low table with paint still smeared across it tucked into the corner. They haven't gotten to that room yet, so the door stands ajar. Bunked beds dominate the wall of this small room, and there are boot marks on the floor from when the EMTs found the little boy, terrified, and hiding in the room's lone closet.

Jane knows she should go speak to him, but she wants her initial impressions down on paper beforehand. She knows that that isn't the real reason; however, it is just the one she tells anyone who wonders why she's taking notes and not interviewing the lone witness to this horrible crime. She's waiting for Maura to arrive so that she can see the bodies of the mother and her child - so that she can be sure that Maura will be alright.

The living room has been tossed, and the island connecting it to the kitchen has been hit by something that looks suspiciously like the damage a sledgehammer would inflict. There's nothing like that in the apartment that they've found so far, and Jane suspects that when Maura gets here that she will have to defend her guess that the murder weapon is that same device. It would explain the reddish brown stains in the wreckage of the counter-top.

But why toss the place after killing the occupants? It did not look like anything was taken, just tossed around and made to look like an altercation had happened. Jane knew the signs, nothing was out of place on the walls, and nothing in the glass-fronted curio cabinet had been disturbed. The woman's silver had been dumped from its drawer, but the set was still intact, as far as the forensic team could count.

It didn't make sense.

Jane purses her lips and exhales moodily. "Korsak," she says quietly, drawing his attention away from a photo album he's picked up off the floor. "What do we know about the victim?"

Korsak flips through his notes frowning. "Nothing that would indicate this level of violence."

Jane shakes her head. "Shit's staged," she wrinkles her nose, "Pretty wicked job at doing it, but it’s totally staged."

"Disorganized?" Korsak mutters, jotting down some notes of his own. "Or just crazy?"

Jane doesn't know. She has no idea what could have possibly created such violence within a person. She knows all about the dark side, about letting the evil in and letting it own you, but this is completely different. Savage murders like this are usually done by very sick minds - and yet this crime scene is so meticulously staged.

She shakes her head. "No clue,” She pulls herself to her feet. "What's the kid's name?"

"Jake - Jacob Turman. He's a foster kid that's been bouncing around the system for the past two years. Mom's locked up for cocaine trafficking,” There’s a hardness and an anger in Korsak's voice that Jane recognizes well. He hates cases with kids involved too. He hates the fact that he never had kids of his own. Just ex-wives and a miserable amount of alimony to pay, and no children to sweeten the deal. Shit end of the stick, if you asked Jane. "The guy from CPS - Spencer something-or-other - said that they might have trouble placing him over the holiday weekend."

"Jesus, it's just Labor Day, someone's gotta be in town," Jane mutters, hating nine-to-fivers and their perfect families and three day weekends for a last summer hurrah at the beach or on the Cape.

Korsak clicks his tongue and Frost comes back in, "Doctor Isles is here." His voice suggests warning and Jane glances up to see that Maura is not following him. She leaves the apartment and descends the stairs quickly, wanting to see Maura and warn her about the scene upstairs before it takes her completely by surprise.

Maura Isles is wearing something that Jane can only describe as 'too short, too impractical and fucking ridiculous' - a nice white summer sundress that stands out against the tan that Jane helped her get through long hours of running over the past few months - as she unearths her forensic kit from the trunk of her car. The coroner’s van is parked down the road and Jane can see that they're starting to gather their things out of it as well and will follow Maura in when she heads up.

"Hey," Jane says, stopping just short of Maura's car and raising her hand in greeting. "Sorry to call you away from your thing."

Maura's head appears around the side of trunk door, and she grins at Jane. "I was finished speaking anyway, so it doesn't matter." She sighs, setting her kit on the floor and producing a pair of forensic slippers from the stash of them that Jane knows she keeps there. "Barry said it was bad."

Jane nods. "Mom and a kid. Bludgeoned."

"Let's get to work then," Maura says, her expression hard.

Jane hates it when she does that. Shuts down completely and becomes singularly focused on the job. It’s a good defense mechanism, but Jane wishes that Maura would talk to her. She knows how much Maura hates dead children.

Protectiveness surges up within her and she wants to reach out to Maura and hold her back, to protect her from what she's about to see. Jane knows she can't. Can't let Maura know that her weakness is her curse. Can't let on how much she worries about Maura when her best friend slips off stupidly high heels and pulls on the slippers.

"I thought you'd gone for the weekend and Rajid was on call," Jane says as they walk up to the second floor together.

Maura shrugs, "I got a call from the Chief of Police requesting that I come back and handle this case."

Trying not to think about what it would be like to be getting phone calls from the brass on a daily basis, Jane leads Maura into the apartment. They pause as Maura takes in the smashed counter-top and the carefully undisturbed curio cabinet.

"This is staged," Maura comments. She crosses over to peer intently at the wall for a moment before continuing, "In domestic violence cases, one would expect to see indentations on the wall from thrown objects, fists. There is not a single picture or object out of place except on the floor."

"You can say that with certainty?" Korsak asks. Jane is suddenly grateful that Maura pulled on her white coat over the dress she'd been wearing at her conference. The forensic techs and unis in the room are all watching her like wolves and Jane has to resist the urge to go and punch the guy in the corner who just licked his fucking lips.

Maura nods. "This was very clearly done after the fact, as though someone was looking for something desperately and could not find it but knew that it was not enclosed anywhere in the apartment."

Jane makes a note and then points towards the doorway just off to Korsak's left. "Bodies are through there. We started to process in here and just closed the door so that it would be undisturbed for you. It was closed when the EMTs got here as well."

"Who called 9-1-1?" Maura asks, setting her kit down and kneeling in front of it. She produces gloves and a flashlight. It's still bright daylight outside, but Jane knows that Maura is nothing if not thorough.

"Foster kid. He's outside with CPS,” They step into the room and the smell of death washes over Jane. She can feel Frost behind her step into the room and then quickly hurry away. He's still such a baby about this stuff, it's not that bad. "Maura, he's four years old."

Maura's hand is covering her mouth as she looks at the mangled body of the woman on the bed. The little girl is under her, the mother thrown protectively over her child for all the good it did them both.

There's blood splatter all over the walls, and gobs of bone and hair from crushed skulls litter the ceiling. "So much rage," Jane intones quietly. "Are you going to be okay in here?"

There's a jerky nod from Maura and Jane reaches out to touch her shoulder. "I'll be downstairs. I'm gunna go talk to the kid and see if he remembers anything." Maura's fingers close around Jane's for a moment and they stand there in silence. Jane is promising that she'll be here if Maura needs her and Maura is pledging to be strong and do everything she can to find this child killer and bring him to justice.

"Frost, with me," Jane says, letting Maura go and sweeping from the room. Frost follows, glancing over his shoulder at Maura, who is directing her team into action, taking photographs and documenting everything that they can. Korsak will get Jane if it's needed, but for now, they have a scared little boy to talk to.

Spencer what’s-his-name from CPS is growling into a cellphone when they approach him at his department-issued mini-van. The kid is wrapped in a blanket despite the oppressive heat of the day and Jane grins brightly at him as she approaches him.

"Hold up," Spencer says as they draw level with the van and he barks into the phone that they had better fucking find someone to take this kid because he isn't going to a group home overnight, not after what he's been through. He hangs up the phone and glances from Jane to Frost and back again. "You guys the lead?"

"Yup," Jane says.

"But I thought that Vince -” Spencer trails off as the kid looks a little frightened. Jane thinks she knows why she was called in on this case. If the kid's afraid of the lead investigator, they were fucked. As a woman, Jane was largely considered by the brass more approachable for the ah - 'weaker' victims.

And this was despite everyone in Homicide's maintaining the fact that Jane was a like a Doberman just waiting to pounce. Or something like that. Jane doesn’t even like dogs all that much. Just Jo Friday, and that's because she's tiny and adorable.

"Look, Spence," Jane begins, noting how he winces at the nickname. "Barry here and I wanna talk to Jake and see what he saw. He doesn’t need a lawyer, because he's a pipsqueak who couldn't hurt a fly, right Jake?"

Jake grins toothily up at Jane and she tussles his hair. She hates that he'll probably never be okay again, that his hard life has only gotten harder now that he's seen this - and that he's probably going to have to spend the night at some anonymous group home because everyone and their goddamn mother is out of town this weekend.

"Fine," Spencer says. "I'm going to step over there and try to get someone to come and take him when you're done with him."

"If you can't find someone, Doc Isles is always good in a pinch," Frost puts in and Spencer nods.

"What are you saying?" Jane whispers urgently at Frost, "Maura can't..."

"She's had the paperwork on file for ages, in case something like this came up," Frost says. Of fucking course he would know that, Jane thinks. He bends down, squatting in the gravel of the building's parking lot and holds out his hand to Jake. "Hey little man, I'm Barry."

The kid's eyes are wide, "Like the president?"

"Nope, just Barry." Frost laughs. "Me and Jane here want to ask you some questions, is that okay?"

"About the monster?" The boy looks suddenly fearful but Jane scoots next to him, sitting beside him in the back of the mini-van. He's curled up in the captain's chair and they're just talking calmly. "He dropped his book."

Jane's eyebrows shoot up, "His book?"

The kid leans over hand hands Jane a moleskine in an evidence bag. "They told me that I could give it to the detectives." He laughs. "The monster was real mad when he couldn't find it. He smashed stuff - like he did Valarie. And Emma."

"Where were you when he did this?" Jane asks gravely. The kid seems completely unbothered by what has happened and she reasons that he's probably still in shock. They'll have to get him to a child psychologist first thing in the morning.

"I was hot so I slept in the closet. Valarie let me do that, no one else does." Jake's eyes fill with tears and Jane puts her arm around him. Hot little fingers grab hold of her shirt collar and suddenly he's in her lap, sobbing and shaking. Jane pats him on the back, trying to calm him down.

Jane doesn't know how long they stay like that, Jake crying into her arms and Frost making silly faces every time he starts to cry again.

Maura comes down with the bodies almost an hour later and they're still sitting with Jake. Spencer has basically given up all hope and is telling Jake that he's going to have to spend the night somewhere not fun when Maura directs her lackeys away to the coroner's van and comes up to stand next to Jane.

"Seeing you with a child in your lap is rather off-putting Jane," Maura says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Hey!" Jane protests as Jake sleepily looks up from her shoulder. "Me and Jake? We're buds."

"Doctor, could I speak with you?" Spencer asks. He's hung up his phone for the last time and jammed it into his pants pocket. He's long-since shed his tie and collared shirt and is standing in just his undershirt and is still sweating through it.

Maura steps away after Spencer and Jane raises her eyebrows at Frost, who is reading over his notes and asking Jake questions whenever he doesn't seem to be too upset.

"Think she'll say yes?"

"She should," Frost says. He stands and closes his notebook, stretching as he does it. They're all hot. Jane wants to take the kid out for ice cream to make him feel better, but she knows that if Maura is indeed going to be taking him for the night, that she'll say no to soft-serve before dinner.

Spencer produces some forms and Maura looks flustered for a moment before taking the pen from him and telling him to turn around. She signs her name quickly and efficiently using Spencer's back as a writing surface, as Jane knows her to do and asks how long the emergency placement should last.

"As long as you want, Doc," Spencer says. "I'll send a caseworker by on Tuesday - will you be alright until then? All of his information is in the file I gave you."

Maura takes it and Jane can see the worry in her face.

Frost glances from Jane to Maura and shakes his head. "She's gunna need help - I don't think she ever realized that this would, you know, ever actually happen."

Jane grins. "Good, I'll take him to her place and stay over then."

She stands, blanket falling off of Jake and onto the gravel of the driveway. Jake is looking around and Jane smiles at him. "You see that lady over there?"

"The pretty lady?" Jake asks.

"Yup, she's a real lady. She went to a fancy boarding school and everything. She's going to take care of you for a few days, is that okay?"

"Is she nice?" Jake sounds worried. "She'll let me sleep in the closet?"

"If you want, but she's got a very nice bed and air conditioning too." Jane points out. The kid's closet-sleeping oddity had saved his life, and Jane doesn't want to invalidate that as a good plan in case a killer was ever after him again. "You wanna meet her little dude?"

Jake nods hesitantly and Jane sets him down on the ground. He walks with unsteady feet towards Maura, who closes the file and squats down to meet Jake. Her dress is still stupidly short and makes her legs look great, not that Jane is noticing that at this particular given moment.

"Hello, I'm Maura," There's a tentativeness about Maura that Jane is finding ridiculously endearing.

"I'm Jake." Jake says. He holds out his hand and Maura shakes it, obviously appreciative that he's at least got some manners.

Jane is still holding Jake's other hand. "Do you want me to come home with you?" she asks Maura, but it's not really a question, more of a statement of the obvious.

"Please."


	2. Behind a Little Girl's Eyes.

Spencer what's-his-face (Maura tells her later it is Jones) gets a child's car seat out of the back of his mini-van and helps Maura buckle it into the backseat of her car before giving her his number and heading away from the heat of the day and the gore of the crime scene. Jane watches him go with a rueful smile and turns to Frost. "Let's see how the crime scene unit is doing," she can't leave the scene yet, and Maura understands that.

Jane checks her watch as she watches Maura speak to Jake, there's an hour left in their shift, and then they'll be free until eleven the next morning. Jane isn't sure how much work they're going to be able to get done over the holiday weekend. Maura hasn't told her a time of death, but Jane is reasonably sure that the canvas of the neighborhood will reveal very little until Tuesday when everyone has returned from their weekend getaways. They’ll try anyway, they always do, but she hates knowing right off the bat that they’re going to be sitting around holding their dicks for at least three days.

She steps away from Frost and towards Maura. He takes it as a sign to head up to the house. Jane will be along in a moment, he knows that. Sometimes Jane wonders just what Barry Frost thinks of the relationship that she has, or as the case may be, does not have, with Maura Isles. His knowing looks and strange looks of comprehension whenever Jane starts moving, as if drawn in by Maura’s intense gravitational pull, towards her best friend are starting to get on Jane’s nerves.

"You're done at seven?" Maura asks quietly. She's letting Jake help her pack up her supplies and he's currently holding her shoes. Jane wonders if he volunteered for the task, or if Maura simply began to hand him things the way she does with Jane.

"Yeah,” Jane replies. "I'm gunna go see if I can get some of Jake's clothes out of the apartment before I come – and then I’ll have to photograph them down at the station. I don't think that the perp was in there long so they should be -”

"He was,” Jake points out. "He dropped his book in our room and I took it. Then he smashed..." His voice hitches and Maura pulls him close to her, stupidly high heels squashed between them. "Everything." Jake finishes from behind a curtain of Maura's hair.

Jane knows this, he's said it before. They've been through that room already and there's no trace evidence that the EMTs did not disturb when they found Jake cowering in his hiding place. Jane always hated it when they got to a crime scene before her, as they had a tendency to muck shit up in their rush to save the victims.

Maura sets Jake back on his feet and Jane finds herself in awe at the gentle mothering Maura is able to coax out of that overly large brain of hers. Maura, she realizes, might have never anticipated suddenly having to take care of a child like this, but she certainly could. If anything, she blossomed in her new role. "I'll make dinner for seven thirty then."

"Can we have sk'etti?" Jake asks.

Hazel eyes turn to Jake and Jane can barely contain herself watching Maura promise Jake anything he wants for dinner so long as he ate his vegetables. It is too adorable. Jane cannot handle it.

"But I like broccoli!" Jake protests as Jane pats him on the head. His hair is coarse and feels odd under her fingers, but she lingers, enjoying the foreign texture that she does not have in her own hair. She decides she likes it and grins down at Jake.

Jane stands a moment next to Maura, eyeing her appraisingly in her white coat and slippers and Jake holding her shoes. Will she be okay with a kid for an hour?

Maura nods, and Jane touches her hand before walking back into the building. Maura's skin is cool and Jane's fingers burn at the contact.

She wants to say so many things, but silence is what Jane is best at. Silence and secrets and undying affection that she can never articulate. Maura can't know - no one can.

"Korsak!" she shouts from the base of the stairs. "Have the team go back into the second bedroom. Kid says he was in there."

"We got that, EMTs trampled the evidence!" Korsak shoots back and Jane heads back up the stairs. She's got the book that Jake handed her clenched in one hand and a nervous expression on her face.

The killer had been in the little girl's room long enough to drop his book, which suggested agitation, and then gone out long enough for Jake to sneak out and grab it. Jane's mouth pulls downwards into a frown and she clucks her tongue, dragging Korsak and Frost back into the room. She's got a brown paper evidence bag and she begins to open the dresser that has little boy things on it. Valarie Richards, the victim and Jake's foster mother, obviously took very good care of him and treated him as her own. Jane is grateful for that.

"He was in here long enough to get distracted and drop this." She shoves the notebook, evidence bag and all, into Korsak's hands and he manipulates the bag so that he can crack open the pages and have a look. Jane has no idea how he does that, but at least they're not ruining any potential trace evidence while looking at it.

Korsak reads for a moment, flips to a later page with some difficulty, and then lowers the book. He exhales once before turning and staring off into nothingness for a moment. Jane knows that look and it scares her. "This is a murder book, Janie," he says. He uses the nickname that Jane hates from everyone, especially him. She knows that he only does it when he's scared or stressed or some odd combination of the two.

"A what?" Frost asks, he's picked up a small baseball glove that Jane is in the process of liberating from him, miming that he should put that and the Nintendo DS that they've found on the dresser into the bag for Jake. Frost checks the game, grins, and pushes it back into the system. "Mario, he'll be entertained for hours." He pulls a cord out of the wall and coils it up too, putting it in the bag next to the system. Jane can see the Nintendo logo, they must not run on batteries any more.

Jane resists the urge to call him a nerd. It is hard.

"Murder book, you know, like when a perp writes down every little goddamn thing he does before he commits a murder?" Jane says, holding out her hand as Frost hunts through Jake's underwear drawer. He selects a few pairs and puts them in the bag as well. "Usually we see 'em in cases up in Cambridge, near Harvard - kids who think they can commit the perfect crime. They come in with assaults mostly; academics don't have much of a stomach for killing. Not like that," she gestures towards the doorway and the master bedroom where the coroner’s team has removed the bodies of Valarie and Emma Richards. "Anyway."

Korsak closes the book gingerly. "That kid stole the perp's murder bible," He grins ruefully, "Ballsy, I like 'im already."

"Maura took him for the weekend so that Spencer what’s-his-face could go home and stop sweating like a pig,” Jane explains. She's trying to figure out what t-shirts and polos Jake would actually like. His dresser looks like something that Maura would drool over. Ralph Lauren polos and tiny Dockers and oh my god, are those Sperrys, Jane resists the urge to groan. Jake is a very well dressed four (he’ll be five in two months his file says) year old. She digs until she finds a bathing suit in the bottom drawer on a whim and tucks it into her evidence bag as well. "So you'll be seeing him a bit around the station until this clears up and they can get him placed again."

"So that's why you're loading up on little boy clothes," Korsak, always stating the obvious, laughs.

“No, I wanted them for Jo,” Jane rolls her eyes.

Frost shakes his head and takes the little black book from Korsak. "I'll get this scanned," Frost says, tucking it into his pants pocket. "That way tomorrow we can get right into it when you come in."

Jane smiles weakly at him. "Thanks. I'm sorry to not come back with you and stay until we get this stuff processed - I don't know if I should leave Maura alone with a small child for too long. She might ... I don't even know..."

Jane doesn't know why she's worried. Maura was great with him before they left, they'll be fine together.

She wants to be there, to see that mothering and caring side of Maura, to absorb as much of it as possible and commit it to memory. Who knows when she'll get to see this side of Maura again.

Frost crosses to the closet and squats down for a minute among the tangle of blanket and pillows that Jake had been sleeping in. The safe place that had saved his life on a hot night at the beginning of September. He surfaces after a moment and tucks another object into the bag, wrapped in what looks suspiciously like a do-rag.

"Is that..." Jane begins.

"His hair's locked, he's gunna need it or it'll get all fucked up when he sleeps," Frost says and shrugs when Korsak and Jane look at him as though he's got three heads. He brushes past Jane, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like, "White people."

Jane laughs and they follow him out. Korsak is going to stay behind for a few more minutes and make sure that the Crime Scene Unit and officers outside know to keep this place locked up tighter than Fort Knox until it can be completely processed. Jane loads her bag of clothes into the back seat and Frost clambers in and is already hooking his iPod back into the radio transmitter. He doesn't say anything as Jane pulls away, they're both completely lost in their own thoughts as Mark Knopfler starts to sing at her about Dixie and the honkey tonk and suddenly they're both singing and it doesn't seem so scary that Maura has a young child at home that Jane has to protect with her life because he stole a murder book from a perp who clearly will stop at nothing short of killing Jake to get it back.

Call it a hunch, but Jane knows that that book is going to be vital to solving this case.

Jane stays at the station just long enough to photograph the clothing that she's taking for Jake as well as enter the book into evidence with Frost. She collects her keys from her desk, as well as the overnight bag that she keeps there for times when she needs to pull an all-nighter on a case. She doesn't know why, but she gets the feeling as she leaves the station and heads across the parking lot to her car that she's going to be spending the night with Maura tonight. She's grateful that Jo Friday is at her parents' house over the long weekend, because it means that she doesn't need to go home and further delay the dinner that she's sure Maura is overworking herself making. (Her mother had said something about wanting to spend time with the lone grand-ANYTHING that Jane had provided her with and Jane had hung up on her and had dropped Jo off like a sacrificial lamb twenty minutes later without a word.)

The drive to Maura's house is uneventful, the traffic has thinned out significantly and Jane can just drive without having to worry about slamming on the brakes or wailing on her horn when some asshole decides that crossing three lanes of traffic without a signal is a good fucking idea. Jane feels sorry for the traffic cops in this town, she really does. Boston drivers, among the worst by far.

  
Maura's house is all lit up when Jane pulls into the driveway. She collects her bag of clothes for Jake and her overnight bag and rings the doorbell before using her key to let herself in when Maura takes too long to come to the door.

"Dinner's almost done!" Maura calls from the kitchen as Jane sets down her things and tosses her keys into the basket next to Maura's. It is painfully domestic, but Jane likes the three pairs of shoes that are lined up by the door when she takes off her boots.

She pushes the thoughts out of her mind and heads into the kitchen, following her nose and the intriguing smells of what has to be homemade pasta sauce. Jake is sitting at the island on a stool, a fucking gigantic knife in his hand, chopping up broccoli.

"Pretty big knife there Jake," Jane says, setting down the bag of his clothes on the countertop out of Maura's way.

"I dulled it." Maura says, not looking up from the sauce. "Significantly." She's blowing on a spoon and contemplating it before she leans forward to taste it.

"I get to cut the broccoli!" For a four year old, Jake sounds far too excited about broccoli. Jane makes another note to make sure of the psych consult for him on Tuesday. "Doctor Isles is so cool!"

Jane grins and resists the urge that wells up within her to lean forward and peck Maura on the cheek and announce ‘honey, I’m home.’ This is going to be fucking terrible and Maura can't know, not now, not with the added stress of Jake and having to fucking dissect a little girl tomorrow morning to see how she died.

"Jane is pretty 'cool' too, Jake," Maura says, she's scooped more sauce and is offering it to Jane with a bright smile hidden behind hair and half-lidded hazel eyes.

She exhales, and leans forward, tasting the sauce. It's delicious, but, as usual, Maura is skimpy on the spice. "Needs a bit more pepper."

"Jane is going to shoot the monster!" Jake declares, setting down the knife and putting all the broccoli he's chopped up into the waiting pot in front of him. Jane can hear the splash of water and wants to tell Maura that she really shouldn't cook broccoli that way, but holds her tongue. "And then he won't get me."

Jane opens the cupboard and begins to take down plates and glasses for the three of them. She's going to leave it to Maura to address that comment by Jake, but Maura merely soothes a lock of hair that was standing up at an odd angle on his head and tells him to go wash his hands.

The broccoli cooks quickly and they settle down to eat, Jake chattering about how he went to a game at Fenway earlier that summer with his 'big brother.' Maura tells Jane that he's enrolled in a program thanks to his foster mother - it was in his file. Jane isn't much interested in the fact that the kid has another adult role model, but rather in engaging Jake in non-threatening conversation about baseball. The kid's a nut, puts her dad to shame - rattling off dates and statistics as though he isn't four years old.

"The file said he was rather gifted," Maura confides as she sits on the counter and watches Jane do the dishes. Jane put on the game for Jake and he's currently yelling at the umpire on TV about strike zone consistency and checked swings.

He is the perfect little boy, Jane wants Maura to keep him so she can take him to ball games and teach him how to slug.

"I gathered," Jane laughs. There's a cluster of soapsuds on her nose and Maura leans forward, her fingers brushing them away, and lingering on Jane's cheek. "Are you okay with this?"

"With Jake?" Maura asks, sipping her wine.

Jane nods, setting another pot in the dish drain.

"I honestly had not thought about it. I filled out the paperwork because it seemed prudent; I never considered that it would actually come to fruition." Maura purses her lips as Jane dries her hands on the dish towel before bending to wipe up the water that she (inevitably) got on the floor. "I guess that as it is only temporary that I needn't let it bother me too much. He is, as you said, a really good kid."

The Sox end up winning five to four with a walk-off homer from Ortiz in the tenth and Jake is nearly asleep by the time the game is over. Jane carries him up the stairs and wrestles him into a clean t-shirt and sleep shorts. She stares at the do-rag for a moment looking lost and confused but Jake sleepily explains the process of how to get it on right and soon he's curled up in the bed Jane assumed she'd be sleeping in, dead to the world.

"Did you want me to stay?" She feels like she's been asking that a lot, but as Maura closes the door to the guest room, there's not even a moment of hesitation as Maura nods and opens the door to her own bedroom and ushers Jane inside.

"I like it when you sleep over," Maura says and Jane tries not to blush. Usually that just means that they stay up stupidly late and watch old movies and don't have to do terrible autopsies in the morning. It usually means that they sleep in separate beds.

Tonight, it seems, is either really awesome or fucking terrifying. Jane can't decide yet.

Jane is grateful that she's got a pair of gym shorts in her overnight bag. She waits until Maura disappears off into the bathroom with some lacy uncomfortable-looking thing slung over one arm before she shucks off her pants and pulls on the shorts. She'll shower in the morning; she's too tired to really care right now and that lacy uncomfortable-looking thing of Maura's is proving rather distracting to think about.

Jane flops down on the bed and groans loudly. She doesn't know what has gotten into her recently; it used to be so easy to hide this.

"Jane?" Maura's sticking her head out from around the bathroom door, her make-up is off and she looks positively stunning. "Can you set the alarm for five a.m.?"

Rolling over, Jane mutters, "Christ." That is too fucking early. It's only eleven, but they're both dead on their feet and Jane knows that a Maura without sleep is a cranky Maura, despite everything that Maura says to the contrary. "Why so early?" She asks as she feels the bed dip down beside her. She's jabbing at the numbers, counting down from thirty minutes back to zero zero so that the time will be correct, and it's going frustratingly slowly.

"I do my best work in the morning," Maura says vaguely. Jane peers over her shoulder as she slides the alarm into the 'on' position. Maura's lacy uncomfortable-looking thing is, for lack of a better word, _stunning_ on her. It clings to her and makes her breasts stand out in a way that is way too distracting for Jane. "Also I figured that you'd want a cause of death when you came in at eleven."

"Ugh, Eleven to nine is the worst shift," Jane groans. It's a good shift for a holiday weekend though, she can still get to family dinners and she has all of Monday off to look forward to. Maybe she can take Jake swimming or something, to take his mind off things. "So I guess I'll bring Jake with me when I come?"

Maura nods and turns off the light, Jane is grateful for the cover of darkness as she's blushing just thinking about that lacy uncomfortable-looking thing that Maura's wearing.

"Maybe he can come to mom and dad's on Monday for the cookout," Jane muses. Maura has snuggled up next to her and she's rigid, terrified to move when all she wants to do is put her arm around her best friend and kiss her. "You're invited too, you know."  
"Your mother called me, I know," Maura says, lacy-thing covered breasts pressing up against Jane's side.

All thoughts of the strange way Jane’s mother invades even her most private of friendships leaves Jane’s mind in a heartbeat. She inhales sharply, thinking about dead puppies and things that are not at all sexy, trying to distract herself from the gentle squishiness of Maura’s breasts.

Jane swallows hotly, "You gunna ... um ... sleep like that?"

"Like what?"

She picks her words carefully, "All snuggled up a like this? It's like a bazillion degrees out."

"I have a perfectly good air conditioning unit outside, and I happen to like sleeping like this." Maura's voice has a hint of hurt in it and Jane sighs, shifts her arm so that it's around Maura and gives up. She might as well take what she can get.

The alarm goes off at five-oh-one (Jane is never one to set an alarm right on the hour, it freaks her out) and Maura rises from Jane's tight embrace. Jane shifts, half-awake and wanting Maura to come back, and makes an undignified and sad noise. Warm fingers smooth away the hair from her forehead as Jane pretends to still be asleep, and there's the warm pressure of lips on her cheek before Maura is completely gone. Jane doesn't know what to think about what just happened, and she lies awake thinking about it until Jake knocks on the door at eight.

Maura has left instructions on how to feed Bass on the island in the kitchen and has suggested that since she's run out of eggs that maybe Jake would enjoy going out for a ‘nutritious’ breakfast. Jane shakes her head, pulls out a box of Fruit Loops from behind the box of Kashi that Maura uses to hide such unhealthy breakfast food and pours both herself and Jake a bowl. "Eat up kid," Jane says as Jake digs in. She'll feed him a banana or something so Maura can't say the breakfast was completely unhealthy.

"Are we gunna go to the police station?" Jake asks a few bites later.

Jane notes that he seems far too excited about this. "Yes. Unfortunately Maura and I have overlapping shifts today so you're going to have to spend some time with Barry and Vince and me, okay?"

He nods.

"You gotta promise to be good, and that you're not going to looking into anything that’s closed. We're going to try and catch the monster, but you can't go looking at the pictures or in the files on my desk, okay? They're gunna be scary and I don't want you to be scared."

Jake contemplates his gray milk before fishing out a final fruit loop. "Do they scare you, when you look at them?"

Jane sighs, gestures for Jake to drink his milk as she does the same, and tries to think of the right words to say. She's not afraid of looking at pictures of the crime scene, of Emma Richard's mutilated body or how Valarie was probably trying to protect her daughter. The violence towards a little girl bothers her, disturbs her, and makes her angry, yes; but she isn't afraid. She hasn’t been afraid of anything in a long, long time. "No, Jake, it makes me want to catch the monster and lock him up so he can't hurt you too."

Her phone chirps and Jane looks down to see a text from Maura, "Come in now," it says, "Have COD, not what you think."

Jane sighs; her eleven-to-nine has just turned into a nine-to-nine. Joy.

They arrive at the station thirty minutes later. Jane supervised Jake in the shower and he's still shaking water out of his hair as they pull up. The shoulders of his polo shirt are all wet and he's grinning brightly at everyone who looks his way. Jane makes sure that she's got his video game before she heads into the station, Jake in tow.

"Rizzoli, you running a daycare or something?" The guy at the front desk asks. She waits until Jake isn't looking before glaring at him and mouthing for him to fuck off. The guy laughs and Jane rolls her eyes as Jake waves at him. The elevator doors close and soon open again.

The bullpen is alive with motion, and Jane directs Jake to sit down in the chair by her desk. Korsak is looking through printouts at his desk, and glances up when Jane begins to explain to Jake that he needs to stay up and not go anywhere until she can get back from going to see Maura. "Hey Rizzoli," he says, setting down his papers, "thought you weren't in until eleven."

Jane runs a tired hand though her hair. It's still wet and curling like mad from the humidity outside, Jane contemplates shaving her head every morning during the summer, but she likes her hair way too much to part with it like that. "Doc's got the COD, figured I'd come in early since we were just going to sit around and watch Sportscenter anyway."

Korsak looks intrigued, "I'll watch him if you go get the report." He jerks his thumb in Jake's direction. Jake's currently playing with the toy cruiser that Jane has had since her first day at the academy, making gun noises and giggling loudly as he drives the car off the desk and onto the floor and back up the desk and around the mess that is Jane's current case files. "Although, he seems to be rather adept at entertaining himself."

"You shoulda heard him last night during the game," Jane grins. "He's like a statistics genius, knows everything. Maura says he's 'gifted' or something."

Korsak grins. "Kid likes baseball, awesome. I'll pull up the MLB highlights from last night and have an excuse to not think about bludgeoned little girls for a few minutes. This is a fantastic plan."

"I'll be right back," Jane promises. She crosses back to her desk and taps Jake on the shoulder. "You stay with Vince, okay? He's gunna show you some highlights from last night while I go talk to Maura."

"Okay!" Jake is across the room and attempting to climb into Korsak's lap before Jane can even move. She shakes her head and walks out of the bullpen, knowing that Korsak is far too grandfatherly for his own good. She jabs the button to the elevator, but when it takes too long, she moodily pulls the door to the stairs open and heads down.

The morgue is cold and dark. Maura has removed Emma Richard's right eye and is examining it under a microscope. Jane swallows, suppressing her urge to vomit and crosses over to where the body of the little girl lies on Maura's table, cut open and fully examined. She hates it when Maura doesn't warn her that she's still in the middle of doing shit like this. Jane swallows, takes a second to compose herself, and clears her throat.

Maura, eyeball and all, jumps. She turns, hair obscured under a surgical cap, and blinks at Jane. "You need to make more noise when you come in."

"I'm like a ninja, Maura, it would be cheating to alert you to my presence," Jane says. She's pulling on gloves and is peering at the image that the microscope that Maura is using is projecting on the computer screen just off to Maura's left. "Is that..."

It looks like petechial hemorrhaging. The kind that you don't get unless you're suffocated; and you won't get from getting a large blunt object to the head. Jane frowns, knowing that this has completely thrown off her theory of the crime.

"Petechia. Emma Richards was suffocated before she was bludgeoned, but the bludgeoning happened within twenty minutes - if that - of her initial death. It explains why the spray patterns were consistent with what they would have been, had she been alive." Maura says. She sets down the eyeball and turns to Jane, her eyes haunted. "What did that little girl do to deserve such treatment?”

Jane has no idea; all she can hear is the sounds of Mark Knopfler's guitar and the insistence that she needed a change in careers. "I shoulda learned to play the guitar, I shoulda learned to play them drums..." She mutters, ignoring Maura's odd look as she speaks.

Money for nothing, Jane thinks. Chicks for free. This whole case is full of bullshit that should not be happening and that isn’t making sense.


	3. Valarie

Valarie Richards, from everything they have been able to find on her, is a fucking saint. They’re all moodily drinking coffee and going through what public records and a few cursory Google searches for Valarie’s name have come up with. The mood in the bullpen is low, bored, and tired of waiting on fucking everything since it’s a holi-damn-day weekend. Jane scowls, the coffee is cold and gross and she’s still drinking it because she literally has nothing better to do. That’s how stalled this case is.

Jane slumps backwards in her chair and tries to will the papers on her desk to provide her with an answer or a lead that can be chased down _now_ and not sometime on Tuesday. Maura took Jake home twenty minutes ago and she already wants to leave - the case is going nowhere until the weekend is over as it is, and there's precious little to investigate with regards to the Internet and public presence of Valarie anyway.

"So, let me get this straight," Jane sits up, scoots her chair back forward so that she can reach her papers, and begins to recite from her notes. "Valarie Richards, forty, has one biological daughter, Emma, and was in the process of adopting Jake. She works at a soup kitchen on the weekends and is a professor of literature during the week. Donates a," Jane flips her paper over and her eyes widen, that is a lot of zeros. "Metric fuckton of money every year to charity, and is on the PTA for the school that neither of her children were old enough to attend yet."

"As I said," Korsak mutters into his coffee mug, "A saint."

Jane shifts her papers around, finding a print out of Valarie's public facebook wall and profile page. It has been bothering her all day that they haven’t found a name for next of kin, or even casual friends of Valarie in their investigation so far. The facebook printout is the most vexing of them all, "This says she was in a relationship, we know who with?"

"Still looking into that," Frost says, typing away at his computer. He's been playing phone tag with an ADA gone to the Cape all day, trying to get a subpoena written for the private posts on Valarie's facebook, as well as her phone records. They know that they're not gunna get a judge until Tuesday morning, but it's good to have their ducks lined up in a row before hand and Frost is ferocious when he isn't being given what he wants.

She almost feels bad for the ADA, almost.

Jane groans into her hands and rubs her eyes vigorously. There is one tactic that they haven’t tried yet, but Jane knows it won’t work as well over the weekend. She had seen how empty that neighborhood had looked when they’d showed up on Friday; she didn’t think that anyone would have come back from their three day weekend yet. "Wanna go do a canvas?" Anything to get out of the office.

Korsak shakes his head. "Gunna work on that book some more."

They’ve scanned all the pages of the book and Korsak, as he doesn’t have any active cases at the moment, has told Cavanaugh that he’ll be working this particular aspect of the case. Jake has warmed up to him a lot since Korsak initially scared him, but Jane is glad that she doesn’t have to read the book. She doesn’t want to know how the sick fuck who did this to Valarie and Emma Richards planed out every single goddamn aspect of his crime before committing it.

There’s a quote on the first page of the book that Jane _swears_ she’s heard somewhere before, but can’t place it. None of them can. Korsak is probably going to take it to the public library and see if he can’t get some bookish librarian type to tell him what it’s from, he likes them. They like cats almost as much as he does.

"Sure," Frost is clipping his gun to his belt (bless his heart) and Jane begins to gather her things. A quick inventory of her locker downstairs and the trunk of her car earlier today have told her that she's going to have to stop at home to get another change of clothes for tomorrow. She'll get Frost to stop her over there before they head back towards Roxbury; he'll agree because he likes the turtle - tortoise - that Maura gave her a while back.

Jane flips the notes that she wrote down on the book yesterday and earlier that morning onto Korsak's desk. "Here's my notes, if you want to compare 'em to yours. Freaky shit in that book."

Korsak nods, "Tell me about it." He waves his hand as Frost opens the door and holds it open for Jane once he goes through. He won’t be a gentleman and wait for Jane to go before he does, but he’s teased Jane at length about how she does that to Maura all the time. Jane’s argument is that Maura is actually a lady and that Jane could kick his ass, so no door holding is required. "You kids have fun now."

"Always," Jane calls over her shoulder.

There's not going to be anyone to canvas. Jane knows this but she needs to get out of the office and do something today or she's going to fucking scream. Frost is driving today, so she's manning the iPod. She doesn't feel like listening to music, so she flips to his jazz playlist and selects a song at random with a flick of her thumb. Soft piano fills the car as Frost starts the engine and the corner of his mouth twitches.

"Aw, no singing today?" Frost teases as they pull out of the station parking lot.

"Don't start with me Barry," Jane retorts. They’re heading out towards the main road, and she realizes that she’s going to have to stop Frost before they go too far towards Roxbury, "Look, I uh - I gotta stop at home and get a change of clothes."

Frost raises an eyebrow, but turns in the opposite direction of the neighborhood they're going to be canvasing and heads towards Jane's apartment without comment. They travel the nearly abandoned streets of Boston before Jane can't contain herself any more. She can feel him judging her from the other side of the car and she can't stand it.

"I slept at Maura's last night, okay?" Technically, she slept with Maura, but she's not going to let on that particular detail unless Frost presses her for it. "I used my change of clothes from my desk."

"I was noticing that that wasn't your usual Saturday shirt," Frost grins and Jane swats his arm.

Her apartment does not look nearly as warm and inviting as Maura's house did last night, and Jane laments the fact that there's no Jake and no Maura to greet her when she lets herself in. She tosses her keys on the counter and kicks the door closed behind her, heading into her bedroom. She's gathering supplies for several days, and the duffle that she's emptying is far bigger than the overnight bag she usually uses when she sleeps over at Maura's. She fishes her softball glove out of her closet and unearths an old and abused-looking tennis ball that Jo Friday hasn't ruined and throws her bathing suit into the bag as well. Five minutes later, armed with her cell phone charger and duffle, she feeds the turtle - tortoise - and heads back down to the cruiser.

"That took a while," Frost says. He's changed the music to WBRU and Jane rolls her eyes at his choice of music. Not like there are any good stations out of fucking Boston – where he goddamn lives – that he could listen to. He's such a hipster unintentionally, but she's not going to be the one to break it to him.

Jane clucks her tongue, "Had to get my glove, it was buried."

"For Jake?"

"Yeah." Jane feels silly, but the smile on Frost’s face says that he thinks what she’s doing for Jake is good for him.

They're silent for the rest of the drive to Roxbury; both are lost in their own thoughts. Jane is running through a mental list of the cars that she'd seen in driveways and parking lots to figure out what doors they'll actually be able to knock on and speak to people at.

Frost parks on Aspen Street and Jane is grateful that it's at least a little bit cooler today. She's wearing sunglasses and she knows she looks like a fucking douchebag in her blazer in this heat. She slams the door to the car and straightens her shirt, Frost, on the other side of the car, is doing up his tie. He'd pulled it loose sitting in the car waiting for Jane to gather her things.

"Wanna start there, and then circle around?" Jane isn't sure what they're going to find. Maura's conclusions were that both victims were suffocated to at least unconsciousness sometime on Thursday. The heat in the apartment accelerated the decomposition so it was impossible for her to get an exact time of death. That was what Jane was hoping for out of the canvas - that some neighbor heard the perp smashing things inside the apartment. They could then subtract give or take twenty minutes and have a pretty exact time of death.

Frost nods and the more grueling and boring part of Jane's job begins.

People in this part of Boston Metro are at least a little bit better than those in South Boston when it comes to interacting with law enforcement. Jane and Frost are treated much more like door to door salesmen or Mormons, offered drinks by little old ladies who long for company and getting the door slammed in their faces when they mention that they're canvasing looking for potential witnesses.

In the three story apartment building next to the one where Valarie and Emma Richards were killed, they meet Mark. He refuses to give his last name, but he talks to them at length about Valarie.

He lets them sit at his kitchen table, where they can see the building where Valarie lived out the window as he paints a picture of their victim that again, makes her sound like a fucking saint.

Jane is almost tempted to buy it.

"A real community leader. She was always trying to raise awareness for some cause or another. Her heart was in the right place, tha's for sure," He says, flicking ash off of his cigarette into the empty glass before him. He stares out the window at the apartment building next door, still cordoned off and guarded by a member of the Roxbury police department. "That boyfriend of her's hated it."

Jane leans forward, trying to not look too eager. They have not let on to anyone who they've spoken to that they don't know much about Valarie Richards. They know her public face, she's a goddamn saint. A boyfriend who didn’t approve her being so saint-like? To Jane he sounded like the perfect suspect. "He didn't like her being involved in things?"

Mark takes another drag, blowing a ring so perfect that even Jane is a little bit impressed. He leans back in his chair and sighs. "He was some big shot professor. Never got exactly what he taught, but he was always talking about psychological stuff - but his expertise never seemed, professional, ya know? I've been to a few shrinks in my time; he definitely didn't really know what he was talking about."

Jane nods, "I think we can all see an armchair psychologist from a mile away." She's trying to keep him talking, and Mark's dark eyes twinkle as though he's onto her. He probably is. Jane is painfully transparent when she wants things, Maura tells her this all the time.

"I really dug Jake, the kid she was trying to adopt. He and Emma were best friends, and Valarie totally adored them both. Her boyfriend always just seemed to be there, to like..." Mark inhales and stares off into space, "I dunno, he was just always there. But like, not there. Detached like."

Frost taps his pen against his pad thoughtfully, "Was he like that when the kids were around - or was it just in general?"

Mark shrugs, "Dude was wicked weird man. No idea what she saw in him."

Jane finds herself wondering if Mark had a thing for Valarie Richards. She shrugs, "Women date men they don't like all the time. It's not really about that." She checks her watch, they really should be moving on. From her pocket, she produces a business card and hands it to Mark, "If you think of anything, you give us a call okay?"

Cigarette stained fingers take the card and Mark grins up at Jane. "Sure, detective."

Frost glances over at Jane who gives the slightest of nods. "One more thing Mark, where were you Thursday evening?"

"I had the overnight shift, stocking down at Stop and Shop. You can ask anyone, with the holiday weekend, we were busy as fuck." Mark's eyes are wide and curious, "You think I did it?"

"Procedure," Frost points out, tucking his notebook back inside his jacket pocket.

Mark waves his hand at them and they leave.

They're halfway downstairs before Frost speaks, "Distant and aloof boyfriend?"

"Whom I'm sure will have an airtight alibi," Jane adds. She hates it when they're faced with an unknown. Unknowns bug her and if the pieces don't exactly and perfectly line up, she finds herself frustrated beyond anything else. "I wish we knew what his name was. Maybe he is the one fucking person who didn't leave town this weekend."

They both laugh at that and head back to the car. It's nearly seven and Jane wants to get her reports done for the day before she heads back to Maura's.

Two hours later and Jane is standing in line at Wal-Mart, a fresh pack of tennis balls tucked under her arm and small Lego Creator kit tapping against her thigh. She's decided that the tennis ball she found that Jo hadn't ruined is still pretty gross and she doesn't think that Maura would approve of gross tennis balls bouncing around her house. The Lego she's getting on a whim, it's cute and she loved those things when she was a kid. Frankie still has his somewhere, she knows, she'll have to ask if Jake can borrow them on Monday.

Or tomorrow, Jane smirks at nothing in particular. Cavanaugh had come into the bullpen not long after she and Frost had returned from their canvas and had told them that it was pointless for them to come in tomorrow because the case had stalled and until businesses were open and people came back into town on Tuesday, there was no point in wasting the city's money. Jane had put up a fuss, she always did when she was told to take time off in the middle of a case, but she knew that Cavanaugh was right. They weren't getting anywhere and until they could get the subpoena of Valarie Richard's phone records they weren't going to have any creditable leads to run down as they did not have the name of the boyfriend who was currently their number one suspect.

There are buckets with flowers in them by the register, Jane's been watching one of the stockers unpack them as she's waited in line and she reaches forward when she passes and selected a single pale pink rose. Maura'll get a kick out of it and spend the next ten minutes rambling on about the science of flowers or something else that makes her look completely and positively adorable.

It had, once upon a time, been easy to hide this - but Jane has yet to get the feeling of Maura's lips pressing against her skin out of her mind from this morning.

Jane groans, frustrated with herself.

It is nearly ten o'clock by the time she gets back to Maura's. Jake answers the door in his sleep shorts and t-shirt, do-rag all askew. "Hi Jane!" He says excitedly.

"Hi little dude." Jane knows that he slept through the night last night and that it was probably because the game ran late, she doesn't know if he'll have nightmares tonight, but she thinks the chances are pretty high. Maybe that's why Maura is letting him stay up so late - so that he'll sleep harder when he finally does. She doesn’t think Maura would ever kid the kid something to help him sleep, other than warm milk or whatever that old wives’ tale bullshit was about kids who can’t sleep. Jake saw truly horrible things, but he appeared to be completely unphased. It was strange, but not unexpected. She’s dealt with child witnesses before, at his age, they’re usually just like he is. Cute, adorable, and completely unaware. "Did you have fun with Maura?"

Jake nods. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet and Jane hands him the flower she got for Maura, a bright smile crossing her own face as she pulls off her boots and socks. The tile of Maura's entryway is a welcome coolness under her toes, and Jane shrugs off her blazer as well and leaves it by the door. She hides the rest of the bag from Wal-Mart underneath it, she doesn't want Jake to see the present she got him before tomorrow if Maura’s already got him ready for bed.

"Why did you get Maura a flower?" Jake asks, raising a curious eyebrow as he sniffs it.

"What makes you think I didn't get it for you, silly?"

The look that Jake gives her is hilarious, all wide-eyed disbelief and barely hidden disgust at the idea of a _pink_ flower, "But you like Maura!"

"So? I like you too." Jane is wondering if Maura is lurking just out of sight listening to this conversation ad waiting to come in at the most awkward possible moment.

"Not like that. Valarie and Davis were like that too." Jake makes a disgusted face, "All lovey-dovey and gross."

Christ, are they that transparent to everyone but each other? If even Jake can see it, Maura probably already knows. Jane swallows, trying to think of a reason to leave.

"Jane?" Maura calls down the stairs, "Is that you?"

Fuck, she's been caught. Deflect with humor. She takes the flower back from Jake and rolls her eyes as he sticks his tongue out at her and makes kissy faces at her. What is wrong with children these days? "No, it's just the crazy person that Jake let in!"

Even though she can't see Maura, she knows Maura is smiling.

"Oh good, I was wondering who was going to read him a bedtime story," Maura finally appears, eyeing Jane, the flower and Jake's stupidly large grin on his face.

Traitor, Jane thinks.

"Jane got you a flower!" Jake sing-songs and Jane resists the urge that she can't quite suppress to groan, loudly. Children are evil, why did she let Maura agree to this.

The look on Maura's face drives plans to gag Jake for all possible future interaction clear out of Jane's mind. The way that the smile blossoms out of the quizzical look that Maura had on her face upon seeing the flower is enough to make Jane swoon. She's pretty sure she already is swooning, preparing to amble over to Maura, swagger still fully intact - thank you - and present her with such a gift.

Jake, as little kids are wont to do, gets in the way. He runs over to Maura and pulls on her hand. Maura leans over, still eyeing Jane curiously with that bewitching smile on her face, listening to Jake whisper in her ear.

"I don't know, Jake," she says quietly after a minute. "You should never assume anything."

Jane feels left out and clears her throat as two pairs of eyes focus on her for a moment and then Maura seems to concede whatever secret point Jake has made. "You may be right. I'll let you know, okay?"

"Hello, still in the room you two." Jane feels fidgety, she wants to get the goddamn flower into water and get Jake to bed so that they can have a conversation about how Jake thinks they're fucking together and how Jane is okay with that if Maura is. She will not say that last part, but she longs to be able to nut up and actually tell Maura how she feels.

She doesn't know what is stopping her. Maura must know, everyone at work jokes that they've been dating for years and years and neither of them can fucking date a man to save their lives.

Must be the Catholic upbringing stopping her. Her mother probably would be totally happy if Jane took up with Maura, uptown girl that she was and all, until she realized the lack of manly bits that were required for grandchild making and goddamn why was she thinking about this?

"Did you know that rosa carolinae, like many other common roses are hybrids?" Maura asks, she's taken the flower from Jane and is sniffing it and smiling.

"No, I didn't," Jane responds. "Pink means admiration though." Her mother made sure, one Mother's Day when Jane did not get her flowers, that Jane knew the meaning of every damn color of rose imaginable in the most passive-aggressive way possible. She had been eighteen at the time, and she hadn't forgotten it yet.

Maura's lips brush against her cheek and Jane flushes bright red. "That and other things," she whispers. "Go put Jake to bed; I'll be up in a moment."

Jake is making kissy faces at Jane again, she glares at him, but can’t quite get the smile off of her face. She slings her overnight bag over her shoulder and points to the stairs as Maura disappears off into the kitchen, "Bed."

They climb the stairs and Jane realizes how tired she is. Jake has made himself a nest in the bed to the point where it is almost unrecognizable. He sleeps with the stuffed dog that Frost had found in the closet yesterday, and she can see its nose poking out from under the blankets.

"You build a fort or something, kid?" Jane asks as he climbs into bed. "Maura is going to freak out when she sees this much disorder."

"It's cozy," Jake points out, lower lip sticking out. "Tell me a story."

Jane grins, she can do one better. "How about a dramatic recitation?"

"A what?"

"Just listen."

Jake settles down and Jane begins to pace up and down the room in front of the bed. She's known this poem for years. She committed it to memory when she was eleven and has never forgotten it. She exhales, and begins:

  


  
_The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville Nine that day;_   
_The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,_   
_And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,_   
_A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game._   


  


  
She can tell that Jake has never heard 'Casey at the Bat' before, and is sad that no one felt inclined to indulge his love of baseball with what is, in Jane's opinion, one of the best poems ever written and certainly the only one, other than ‘The Night Before Christmas,’ that she's ever memorized. She watches Jake as she continues, wondering if he thinks she's weird because she's not telling him a story.  
 _  
_

  


  
_A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest_   
_Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;_   
_They thought, if only Casey could get but a whack at that -_   
_We'd put up even money, now, with Casey at the bat._   


  


  
_  
_   


  


  
_But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,_   
_And Blake, the much despis-ed, tore the cover off the ball;_   
_And when the dust had lifted, and the men saw what had occurred,_   
_There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third._   


 

  
Maura is standing by the doorway and Jake is already half asleep. Jane isn't even to her favorite part, the part she knows Jake'll like as well, but she nods as Maura turns off the light.

Jake stirs as the light changes and Jane leans over to whisper that she'll finish telling him the story of Casey at the bat tomorrow. He rolls over and she tucks him in, content that he will sleep through the night.

The door closes behind them and Jane turns to Maura, who is looking at her with that same curious look that she had on before, with the flower. "You never cease to amaze and confuse me," Maura admits as Jane reaches out to touch her shoulder.

"Thanks, I think," Jane responds with a raised eyebrow.

Maura smiles, "You're so good with him. I would never have thought to recite late nineteenth century poetry to him. Especially not about early baseball."

Clearly, Maura is taking the 'let’s avoid talking about what we want to talk about route' today. Jane is okay with that, she doesn't think she can handle a conversation about that particular topic at the moment anyway. Jane pulls them both towards Maura's bedroom and Maura follows her lead without a word. There is so much left unsaid between them.

"Thank you," Maura says when the door is closed, "for the flower."

Jane blushes a little, and looks downwards at her bare feet sticking out from underneath work pants. "I saw it and thought of you. The meaning fit, I really do admire what you're doing for Jake, Maura."

Maura looks at her sideways, but says nothing for a moment, as if carefully considering the outcome of her words. That worries Jane, as Maura so rarely turns on her mental censor and actually thinks about what it is that she's trying to convey, thoughts wise. Usually it's just overly technical word vomit; a good defense mechanism around others, but certainly not around Jane.

"It would have been okay if you'd gotten red," Maura says after a moment. "Jacob thinks we're in love."

There are many things that Jane wants to do at that moment, but Maura takes all options away from her by leaning across the space between them and kissing Jane for the third time day, this time on her lips. There’s cautious curiosity behind Maura’s hazel eyes and Jane is too shocked to say anything.

“Maybe he’s right,” Maura pulls away and sweeps out of the room and into the bathroom, leaving Jane stunned and alone in her bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Jane recites is "Casey at the Bat" a lite 19th century poem about baseball.


	4. Dinner At The Rizzoli's

Jane clambers into her gym shorts and sheds her bra carefully while keeping her t-shirt on. Her fingers are shaking – why the fuck are they shaking? She's standing with her back to the bathroom door, her cheeks burning and a multitude of terrified thoughts running through her mind. She's all dark angles and unruly curls and is terrified of the utter perfection that was Maura's eyes upon the moment that their lips met. She is awkward, freaked the fuck out, and wants nothing more than to push the door to the bathroom open and tell Maura to do it again.

She stands there, bra still clenched in between white-knuckled fingers and tries to shake the feeling that somehow she's fucked this up. That she was the one who was supposed to kiss Maura, not the other way around.

She’d already told Maura as much – she’d be the guy. She _wants_ to be the guy.

"Are you just going to stand there all night?" Maura's voice cuts across the room. Jane turns to see that she's wearing an old t-shirt with 'BCU Summer U' emblazoned in faded black letters on its front and is looking far, far more attractive to Jane than she probably should.

"Was thinkin' about it, yeah." Jane mutters, throwing her bra down into her duffle bag and turns to face Maura. Her cheeks are burning still and she can’t figure out how to make that particular bodily reaction stop.

Maura's smile is bright and friendly as Jane tries not to notice how she's _not wearing any pants_ under the overly large t-shirt. She's turning down the bed and Jane is just standing there, knowing that she should offer to help, but afraid, paralyzed to move, to do anything for fear of ruining the moment. "I can hear you thinking from over here," Maura says, settling herself into bed and patting the space next to her.

Jane eyes the bed, "I'm afraid I'm going to wake up."

"I wasn't aware you were asleep. You should probably get your somnambulism looked at if you think you are."

"My what?" Jane raises an eyebrow, completely confused. She knows she can't be dreaming if Maura's speaking in gigantic-ass words that probably mean totally mundane and boring things. Jane doesn't know said gigantic-ass words, ergo, not dreaming.

"Sleepwalking." Maura supplies with a shrug. She snuggles down under the covers with a satisfied grin on her face.

Realization dawns on Jane, and she grins at Maura. Suddenly everything is back to normal, she can explain to Maura what she means and Maura will get that look of sudden comprehension that makes her look so damn adorable. Jane sits down on what is apparently her side of the bed and toys with a lock of hair.

There's so much she wants to say to Maura. So much that she probably should say, but for now it is all easy smiles and knowing that she, for once in her goddamn life, actually wants to be with someone.

"It's fucking backwards, you kissing me," Jane announces, raising her eyebrows at Maura in a 'don't you think' sort of way.

"I wish you wouldn't swear." Maura says in response and Jane sighs dramatically. She scoots closer to Maura, close enough that their bodies are touching and she can whisper in her ear.

Maura smells good.

"Bet you secretly like it," Jane knows she's taking a risk, and when Maura lets out a huff that sounds almost put-upon, she knows she's right.

Maura rolls onto her side, eyes flicking up and down Jane's body before reaching over her to turn off the light. Their bodies are pressed together and Jane swallows, her cheeks flushed as Maura settles back down into a position similar to the one from the night before.

"Are you going to kiss me goodnight?"

Turnabout is fair play, Jane reasons, pushing her libido down and trying not to have her voice have any inflection at all, "No, I don't think I will."

Maura must remember that conversation, as her voice is dangerous and low, "Jane..."

Jane laughs then, and pulls Maura towards her, lips brushing against Maura’s cheek. "How long?" she asks. She desperately wants to know that she wasn't misinterpreting the signals, that Maura was actually returning her overtures that she’s been making for goddamn ever. She’s going to feel like a colossal idiot if that’s the case, but Jane reasons it’s better to show up late to the party than to skip it all together.

"A while," Maura says vaguely.

"Interesting," Jane replies, and kisses Maura.

Maura is warm and soft in all the right places. She isn't the first woman that Jane has kissed, but it's been for-goddamn-ever and Jane's almost forgotten how good it feels. Women aren't hard and uncomfortable; they're soft, pliant, and wonderful. Maura especially so, with her pretty hair and oh god, her wonderful mouth.

It is in this moment, when their lips meet for the second time, that Jane realizes she should have done this ages ago. Maura kisses with the same meticulous precision that she does everything else in her life, it is full and deep and no longer marred with the hesitation that Jane had sensed before. She rolls on top of Maura, hands on either side of her head, and kisses her as fully as she can. Jane doesn't want to stop, she doesn't think she can, but Maura places a hand on her chest and pushes back gently.

"You are very good at that," hazel eyes twinkle in the moonlight. Maura smirks at Jane, who adjusts herself to be more comfortably wrapped around Maura's smaller frame.

"Thank you." Jane says, kissing Maura's cheek. "You're not so bad yourself."

"Mmmn," Maura nods her head ever so slightly and then is still. Jane can't believe her, she had wanted to, you know, talk about this – maybe do more than this. She closes her eyes and inhales the scent of Maura's hair, clean and good smelling with the barest hint of morgue chemicals still clinging to it. She likes that smell, Jane decides as she drifts off to sleep, she likes it a lot.

Jake wakes them up at seven the next morning by jumping on them after he lets Bass into the room to make loud thumping noises that startle Jane into pulling Maura closer to her. Maura, half asleep as she still is, protests loudly and tries to bury her head in Jane’s shoulder.

"I'm hungry!" He announces, bouncing from Jane to Maura and back again. Jane wonders how the fuck he has so much energy, but reasons that it comes from being little and hyper and evil. "Can we make pancakes?"

Maura makes a grumpy noise and Jane nudges her as Jake begins to bounce on the corner of the bed. "Wake up before Jake breaks us or the bed."

"It is an impossibility for him to do that, he weighs 43 pounds." Maura grumbles into Jane's shoulder. "The bed is made of metal and hardwood."

"Pretty sure seven pounds of pressure can shatter your kneecap, and forty three is more than seven." Jane sits up, grabs Jake and sits him down on the corner of the bed. "No bounce," she says as sternly as she can manage when Jake is watching her with wide eyes and an expectant smile.

"But I like bouncing! And this bed is great for it." Jake shifts his weight so that he's still bouncing (now while sitting down) and Jane groans.

"No. Bounce."

The weather outside is dismal. It's raining hard and Jane can tell by the way that the trees are whipping back and forth that the temperature has probably dropped about fifteen degrees overnight. She hates weather in New England - it's unpredictable as shit, but it's all she has ever known.

"What should we do today?" She asks Maura over breakfast twenty minutes later. "Seeing as I have been forced to take the day off and it is nasty outside."

Maura purses her lips, the way that she does when she's thinking. Jane realizes that Maura Isles thinking is much more akin to high-level statistical analysis, that each and every variable of every thought must be considered carefully and fully before she comes to a decision.

Jane thinks the process is cute, but a little circuitous. She doesn’t need to contemplate the merits of red shoes or blue shoes to come to a decision about what to eat for breakfast, and she would not be surprised if Maura did. They’re different people, but it is that thoughtfulness that Jane loves about Maura.

Obviously, Maura is thinking about something big, as she’s silent for several long and drawn out moments. And here Jane was just going to load Jake up into the car and drive over to Frankie's to find those legos she knows Frankie has hidden in his closet.

Maura clearly has something else in mind.

"We could go to the Science Museum." Maura suggests, sipping her coffee. There’s something in her tone that suggests that it is not a suggestion, but rather a recommendation to strongly take under consideration or else Maura will be most put out. Jane knows those, she usually takes those suggestions and rolls with them.

Even if she wanted to go play legos with Jake and Frankie for the rest of the day.

Jane tries not to roll her eyes at the suggestion, however. _Science Museum, really?_

It doesn't work and Maura looks at her disapprovingly over her cup. "What? The Discovery Center there was designed for children Jake's age." Maura says, as though she's given this far more contemplation that Jane thinks is absolutely necessary. "Also, they have an exhibit on dinosaurs."

Jake perks up at the mention of dinosaurs and demands to go. Maura smooths his hair back into place and eyes Jane with an expectant look on her face that Jane knows she can never say no to.

Jane realizes that she can't argue with him, Maura, and by their powers combined, she's clearly captain fucking planet of being whipped. Frost and Korsak are never going to let her live this down.

Her mind freezes at the thought of Frost and Korsak. She doesn't know what they'll do or say if they find out that she's been kissing Maura. She's tried to keep the fact that she's not opposed to dating women under wraps at work - it's gone over relatively well, despite her general demeanor and reputation. Still, there is scuttlebutt and people always joke that Jane is more of a man than most of the men she dates. Jane has always tried to ignore it, and she's been pretty good at it so far.

If they were to find out, it'd probably get worse. Boston isn't the most forgiving of places, even if it's Massachusetts and everyone is queer as hell anyway. Most of them stick to the areas around the colleges - Smith and Holyoke - and while Boston is fairly progressive, the police force still thinks that it's living in the seventies with a lot of its attitudes and politics. Jane knows this; they don't like her doing what she's doing just by being a homicide detective. She's good though, they can't argue with that. That's why they gave her Jake's case. That's why they'll give her more in the future.

She's going to have to talk to Maura about this. She desperately hopes that Maura will understand her position on such matters. Work is too large, too conservative and too catholic to go bandying about a relationship that they might not be ready to hear about just yet.

Later, after Maura gets Jake dressed and Jane gives him the lego she bought him yesterday, they're standing in Maura's bedroom together, the door is open and Jake is sitting next to Bass in the hallway, playing with his new toy.

"We can't... not at work." Jane begins, pulling on jeans and faded canvas sneakers. It feels like she’s starting in the middle, but she can’t find the words to begin the conversation any other way. She supposes it’s for the best, honestly – because trying to define a them before they’d even been on a singer fucking date is mighty stupid. She pulls a shirt out of her bag and sniffs it, wrinkling her nose as she sets it aside. Apparently that one had been dirty, whoops.

Maura's sweater is tight across her chest, but she nods diplomatically, "There are far too many conservative and traditionally-minded people in the department. It would not go well for either of us, I do not think. Not at first."

Jane finds a shirt and pulls it on, watching as Maura's skirt swishes around her knees. She looks fantastic, even for a Sunday afternoon outing - sweater over a sundress and very impractical red shoes that Jane likes quite a bit set out on the bed. "I think we could tell Frost - maybe Korsak - but the rest of the guys? It'd be like Christmas came early."

"Don't you think that we should, you know, go on a date before we discuss this Jane?" Maura asks. She's tossed a long tan jacket onto the bed - rain coat, Jane realizes - and is still rummaging around in her closet for something else as Jane ties her shoe. "I do think it's important to talk about such things - but that's usually second date material."

Jane rolls her eyes at Maura, who throws a faded zip-up hoodie at her with the BCU logo on the back. "Thanks." She thinks for a moment, "Maur, you know that I wanna do this right - and this is like, concern number one for me. I don't want them being awful to you. And they'll be awful if given even the smallest of chances."

"What about you?"

"It'd be nothing I haven't heard before." Jane replies quietly. She doesn't flinch when Maura's fingers reach out and touch her shoulder, before pulling her to her feet and into a fierce hug. It's nice there, Maura wrapped protectively around her, saving her from the evils of the world. Jane decides she wants to stay like that forever, but Jake has found himself a sweater in his evidence bag of clothing (did Frost put that in there? Jane certainly hadn't.) and is demanding that they help him put it on.

Jane loads Jake into the car and glares at Maura as she is shooed over to the passenger seat. Maura drives like her mother, which is to say, not very expediently or aggressively. Both are necessary if she's gunna survive in Boston traffic. Jane opens her mouth to protest, but Maura silences her with a look.

"I don't like how recklessly you drive." Maura says as Jane stabs moodily at the radio. She flips from station to station, settling on the BCU channel and inclining her head to Maura.

"You didn't grow up where I did," Defensive driving was a skill learned at birth in Jane's neighborhood and her father had been relentless in his teaching all three of them to drive as aggressively as possible. It hadn't worked out quite so well for Tommy, but two out of three ain't bad.

Jake is chattering happily in the back seat as Maura drives, Jane is starting to sing along to the hipster-indie crap that passes for college radio these days and Maura is all smug smiles and knowing looks. Jane wants to growl at her that she should be the one driving. Especially in Boston, in the rain, when people turn into bigger fucking morons than usual.

She doesn't say anything and twenty five minutes later they're parking at the science museum. Jake is practically bouncing in his car seat and even more so once they settle him down on the (thankfully) dry floor of the concrete. Maura sheds the clogs she's been driving in and slips on her shoes. Jane always wondered how she drove in such ridiculous heels, but isn't surprised when Dr. Isles has a completely practical and sensible solution to such a conundrum.

They head inside, Jake wide-eyed at the displays even at the entrance and Jane smiles happily at him from behind his back. She's glad he's enjoying this. She wasn't sure that she would, but just seeing Jake being so _happy_ makes it worth it.

Maura speaks with the woman behind the counter, asking for half-day passes as it's already after noon and inquiring about the dietary exhibit that's currently running.

The woman responds in kind, telling Maura the ticket cost and Jane steps in, "I'll get 'em." She doesn't want Maura - she doesn't even know. She doesn't want Maura to feel obligated - even if this was her idea. It’s a strange feeling, considering that sometimes she goes out with men her mother sets her up with to get a good meal on someone else’s dime. Jane wonders if it is because Maura is a woman, because she’s a lady and a lot more classy than Jane will ever be, but decides that no, she just wants to do this for Maura.

"Jane, it's okay," Maura protests.

Jane grins at her, "You can buy lunch, how 'bout that?"

It seems a fair trade, the less expensive of the two should be lunch - but with overpriced museum food court food, Jane can't really be sure. But she wants to do this, wants Maura to see that she's not going to free load.

She wants to take care of Jake too.

Jane hands over her debit card and the woman slides it through the computer. "Your son is very polite," the woman behind the counter says. "Have you two been together long?"

She's flabbergasted, but Maura simply smiles knowingly at the woman and steers Jane away as she takes their tickets and card back from the woman.

  


* * *

  


Angela Rizzoli greets Jane by shouting from the front porch as soon as they pull up on Monday afternoon. Its three o'clock, the cookout isn't slated to start until five, and Jane realizes that agreeing to arrive early to help her mom prepare might not have been the best idea. Still, there's a Sox game on - as well as the big Georgia-Boise State football game that everyone at work won't fucking shut up about - and she wants Jake to be able to watch at least part of the game before it gets crazy with her extended family all converging on her mother's house.

"And here I was thinkin' you'd never come home, Janie." Angela folds her arms across her chest and smiles brightly at Maura, who waves at her before going around the car to let Jake out of his car seat. "And then Frankie goes and tells me you're bringing a kid along with you. You hate children!"

"Ma, please," Jane rolls her eyes at Maura who gives her an amused, but sympathetic look. She's collecting the six pack of Sam Adams, as well as the bottle of Sambuca that Maura insisted she bring, and the antipasto salad that Maura had made that morning with Jake's help. The bits of carrot are a little misshapen, but other than that, it looks amazing and Jane is jealous that Maura can cook like that with little or no warning time.

Jane hurries ahead of Maura and Jake and pulls her mother aside. "Please be nice to him, he's had a terrible weekend so far."

"Why?" her mother demands, as if shocked that Jane would even imply such a thing about a child. She continues and Jane braces herself for a lecture about her mother’s own terrible week. "What happened to him?"

"Foster mom and sister were bludgeoned, killed. He called it in." Angela looks horrified and Jane pats her arm. "Just be nice to him, alright? He's seeing a shrink tomorrow morning with CPS - but we agreed to take him over the weekend so that he'd have familiar faces around him."

"Janie, that is... that is so sweet of you both." Her mother clearly is beside herself and as Jake hops up the steps to the porch, Angela has already scooped him up and is talking to him excitedly with a bright smile on her face.

Jo Friday's barks can be heard inside and Maura grins at Jane, "Go get her."

Jane knows it's silly, she knows that she shouldn't miss the mutt that Korsak landed on her, but she does actually like Jo quite a bit and she's sure that Jake will too. She holds the door open for Maura and helps her carry the alcohol back into the kitchen before turning to see Jo Friday prancing excitedly around her heels.

"Dogs have no concept of time," Maura says quietly as she sets her antipasto into the refrigerator. "Their memory is like that of a young child."

"Like Jake?"

"No, younger." Maura shakes her head and takes the six pack that Jane still has in one hand, allowing her to bend down and scoop all fifteen and a half pounds of Jo for kisses and loving.

"Who's my little girl, who's my little girl?" Jo's entire back half is wagging and she's licking Jane's face with gusto. It's rather disgusting, really, but Jane doesn't much care because damnit, she's missed Jo and her mother is probably feeding her table scraps and all manner of unhealthy things and she wants to just throw Jo, Jake and Maura back into the car and go home so they can all play with Bass. She's been looking forward to her mother's cooking, but the rest of the family will be there and she doesn't know how she'll tell them about her and Maura.

Because it is, apparently, blatantly obvious to everyone who sees them. And her mother is sharp as a fucking tack about this shit as it is without Jane trying to hide something from her.

Her mother and Jake come in a second later, and Jane sets down Jo guiltily, shooing her over towards Jake, who drops to his knees and is promptly bowled over by an over-excited Jo. He shrieks with laughter and Jane can't help the smile that blossoms across her face, she eyes Maura over Jake being assaulted with Jo-kisses and she smiles warmly back at her.

"So tell me, Maura, why did you agree to take Jacob in?" Angela asks, eyeing Jake.

Jane wonders if her mother has ever actually thought about what goes into their jobs. She wonders if she understands that Maura cut up and dissected Jake's sister and mother to see how they died - that she had to because they deserved the justice that only she could bring to them. Her mother is so oblivious to what Jane and Maura actually do for work that she won't be surprised if her mom has no idea what she does.

"Well, on Friday, Spencer Jones - he's the CPS liaison for Roxbury - attempted to find an emergency host for Jake, given that he probably should not have been placed into a group home facility over the weekend and on such short notice.” Maura’s giving way too much information, but Jane is grateful that she’s avoiding giving out too many details of the case. She doesn’t want her mother to know that their theory of the crime is like the fucking plot of the movie _Rope_ \- killing just to know if you could get away with it. “I’ve been an emergency placement foster parent for five years now.”

Angela looks impressed, and Jake is running around all of them, chasing Jo and shrieking happily as Jo barks at him. Jane is glad they get along.

“You’re doing a good thing,” Angela says, patting Maura on the shoulder. She looks across to Jane, “And you’re good for helping.”

“Thanks Ma,” Jane says. She’s tempted to have a beer now, so that when her mother starts into her about if Maura is going to adopt Jake or keep him on as a full-time foster child, she will be slightly inebriated and not have to deal with it. She knows that that’s escapism and a sign of alcoholism, but frankly, she doesn’t care.

This case fucking blows and Valarie and Emma Richards deserved better than to be murdered for what looks now to be a fucking experiment.

“Take Jake into the living room, Maura, Frankie Junior is trying to get the game started.” Angela rolls her eyes at Jane, “Your father is off fixing the Lebowitzes’ sink. He’ll be along to grill the meat a little later.”

Jane hopes her father is charging extra because it’s a holiday and knows by the dark look in her mother’s eyes that he isn’t. She swallows, and watches as Maura abandons her to her mother, alone.

“What do you need me to do?” Jane asks as her mother begins to futz around in the cabinets, pulling down pyrex dishes and cookie sheets.

Her mother’s face is drawn and quiet. “Find the person who hurt that little boy.”

“We’re on it, ma.” Jane agrees. She begins to rummage for the rubbing spices above the stove. “Barry and I have a few leads we need to check out on Monday. The case stalled because of the weekend – a lot of people left down.”

“I thought that Maura was.” Her mother hands her a package of Shaw’s brand chicken and Jane dutifully begins to wash them in the sink.

“Yeah, pathology conference or something down at Brown. They called her back – but her talk was on Friday before the call came, so they’re not missing her down in Providence.”

“That’s good.” Jane pauses as her mother has stopped moving, which always bothers her. Her mother is a hurricane in the kitchen, silence means something’s coming – something bad. She remembers the silence from her childhood. Frankie broke his arm, Tommy got arrested, her dad hasn’t had work in two weeks, are you gay? Your grandma has cancer. God, the silence will kill her. “Ma?”

“Janie,” Her mother is standing with both hands resting on the kitchen counter, not looking at her. Her shoulders are almost shaking and Jane wants to go to her, but her knowledge of the previous silent times holds her back. She doesn’t know what to expect, so she waits, paralyzed, a chicken leg clutched in between two damp fingers. “Janie if you break that girl’s heart, I swear to you…”

Her phone rings, work ringtone, the non-specific one. Must be someone at the office from the central switch board.

“Am I that transparent?” She asks her mother before hitting the ‘answer’ button on her phone. “Rizzoli.”

"Rizzoli, you will not believe who just fucking walked into the lobby downstairs asking about Valarie Richards." Crowe is almost cackling and Jane wonders how it is that he still thinks he’s hot shit when he’s working on Labor Day instead of out barbequing with friends and family.

Her mother looks at her oddly as Jane growls into the phone, "No, I probably wouldn't, Crowe. Enlighten me."

"Davis Benoit, vic's boyfriend." Crowe is obviously enjoying this too much, the asshole.

Jane thinks for a moment, they don’t want him spooked if he’s the one who did it. “Give him the details that are relevant, don’t mention any specifics. Ask him to come back in the morning.”

“What you’re not gunna come in? Rizzoli I’m shocked.”

“Crowe, I’m in the middle of something really important right now, alright? If he’s trying to inject himself into the investigation because he did it, he’ll come back. If he’s innocent he’ll come back. He’ll come back tomorrow and I wanna finish what I started here.”

“Fine, I’ll call Frost and Korsak, let them know too.” Crowe hangs up and Jane sighs gingerly hanging up on her end and tossing her phone onto the counter with a grimace.

“The way you look at her is the same way you always look when you’re in love.” Her mother says simply. “Pass me the chicken; it needs to be drier before you rub the spices into it.”

Jane numbly hands over the plate of chicken she’s just washed.

“You should adopt Jake, he’s a good kid.”

“Ma!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Growing up in Providence, RI with my grandparents living about an hour outside of Boston, I went to the Boston Museum of Science many times as a child. Unfortunately for me, it has been years since I last went. I've tried to recreate the experience as best as I could, but honestly, I know that it's not as true-to-life as it could be, sorry in advance.


	5. Hunches are not Scientific

"Davis Benoit, fifty-one, works at a community college in Gardner. Professor of literature," Frost rattles off the statistics of the man sitting in Interview One with the cold precision of a man twice his years. Jane is gathering supplies, a notepad, a pen, her phone, and she's trying to resist glancing at the door. She's wondering if Maura will come up before she goes in to speak with Davis Benoit. It doesn't look likely.

Maura sent her off the morning with a kiss and the promise that she'd be up after she dropped Jake off with Spencer Jones at CPS. She hasn't come up and Jane is really worried that something bad has happened to Jake, Maura, or both of them.

She's over-protective and nosy, however, and knows that there've been several bodies delivered to the morgue today that need autopsies preformed and that Maura has been hard at work on them since she arrived at nine thirty that morning.

"Think we can get 'im on good cop, bad cop?" Frost asks and Jane looks up. Her thoughts had distracted her; she hadn't heard the rest of what Frost was saying.

She blinked, "Sorry." Her fingers touch her hair, running nervously through it. "For this interview, I want to do good cop, good cop. He thinks he's here as the vic's significant other, the one who was out of town when this tragedy happened."

Frost grins, "We wanna keep him with that assumption."

Korsak, from behind his computer, chuckles. "We'll make a cop outta you yet."

"Shut up," Frost protests and Jane rolls her eyes at their antics. The level of camaraderie that they have is so wonderful and flawless. She does not want to ruin it with a secret - brothers in arms do not hide things from each other - but she can't find the words to tell them.

It is still too new anyway, she's not sure she should. But she knows that they’re fucking detectives and will go about their business and figure it out anyway. She’ll have to head them off at the pass, and tell them soon.

Jane shakes her head violently, and puts her mind back on the case.

Their plan for Davis Benoit is simple. They are going to interview him like a victim, cater to his needs and see what he does. Frost had set up a video camera in Interview One and they are planning on showing the tape to Maura later on and see what she can get out of it. She hopes, when she gets in there, that it will seem that Davis Benoit is innocent. There's only so much ego stroking Jane is willing to do if the guy's guilty.

Jane eyes the door one more time, decides that she's kept Mr. Benoit waiting long enough and gives Frost the nod. He gathers his files and some of the crime scene pictures that they've determined are appropriate to show him, should he turn hostage, and heads for Interview One.

Jane lets him go in first, and waits half a second, before pulling the door open and nodding hello to the uniformed officer standing outside the door.

Davis Benoit is an older-looking fifty three. He's tall and a little bit round about the middle, which Jane thinks is appropriate for a man his age. She always finds it a little odd when men that age are rail thin like teenage boys - but she keeps that opinion to herself, as Maura is sure to lecture her on how maintaining a low body fat to muscle ratio is one of the best safeguards against many problems men face as they get older.

Actually, the fact that she can hear the conversation so clearly in her head probably means that she's had this conversation with Maura at some point in the past. She'll have to ask Maura about it, because it's fucking creepy that she can recall it in such detail. Jane shakes her head ruefully and holds out her hand to Davis Benoit.

He reaches out with his right hand, and then notices Jane has presented her left and quickly switches hands. His grip is firm, but lacking something. Jane makes a note to tell Maura that he had a weak handshake when they watch the tape later.

"Mr. Benoit," Jane says. Her voice is quiet and mild. She's been told she's got a gift for interviews, she doesn't think she does, she'd much rather beat the fuckers who usually sit where Davis Benoit sits right now than play nice. "Thank you for coming in as soon as you heard."

"Detective Crowe filled me in on some of the details, but naturally, I would rather speak to the lead investigators." His voice is cultured, a hint of Boston, a hint of Western New England inflection – but largely unremarkable. His file says he's from Bennington, Vermont originally - and went to SUNY Binghamton.

Jane smiles fakely at him, her lips pulling backwards to show her teeth, "Naturally."

Frost pushes the file towards her and Jane pulls it across the table, flipping it open and clucking her tongue. "Let's get this out of the way first then, where were you this weekend?"

He doesn't look taken aback, if anything his eyes seem to narrow before he smiles at her. He had anticipated the question; he knew he was going to be a suspect from the start. "I went up to my brother's on Thursday, he lives up in Vermont. Rutland."

"Vegas," Frost mutters and Jane glances up at him before writing down Benoit's response.

"Yeah, Rut-Vegas," Benoit laughs and that is when Jane decides he's guilty. His voice is fine and normal-sounding, but his laugh is diabolical. "Surprised you got the reference."

Frost shrugs and Jane clears her throat. It's odd for Frost to interrupt like that unless there's a reason for it - she'll have to ask him after they get out of here. "Can you give me his number, we'll need to call and confirm that you were there."

It is Benoit's turn to smile fakely at her, and he does, eyes flashing dangerously before rattling off an eight-oh-two area code number almost too fast for Jane to write it down. She won't let him get to her, and gets the last digit down before he asks her what happened to Valarie and Emma. His tone is conversational, not full of pain and guilt the way that someone who is grieving would be. Crowe recorded the conversation from the night before, and he sounded much the same then. Jane wonders if the man feels anything at all.

Jane notices that he doesn't mention Jake and thinks it's odd. Frost's face is pulled tightly into a frown. He heard the lack of Jake in his question as well.

"At approximately twelve thirty on Friday, a call was placed to central dispatch that there had been an attack at the residence of Valarie Richards. When EMS arrived on the scene, they called us, as Valarie and Emma Richards were already dead and had been for some time," Jane recites her report almost verbatim and is a little creeped out that she's able to do that. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"I didn't hear from her this weekend," Benoit says, running his hand through his hair - his left again. His movements seem practiced and rehearsed, but nothing is out of the ordinary enough to give Jane cause to move on him. That's probably why he's doing it, because he knows he can get away with it. Jane desperately wants to get him to submit a writing sample now, but that has to be cleverly worked into the interview. "That's normal though. Her school started this past week, while mine doesn't start classes until the ninth. I just figured that she was busy with Emma and Jake - oh my god Jake."

"Don't worry, Jacob Turman is being well-cared for, Mr. Benoit." Jane doesn't mention that he threw a handful of Fruit Loops at her this morning or that he finally had a nightmare last night, afraid of who had hurt his mother and sister.

"CPS?"

Jane nods.

"Good - I'd completely forgotten him, when I saw the police tape on Valarie's door I just assumed the worst and came straight here." Davis Benoit is a convincing actor. Jane would say that she's sold, but she just doesn’t trust a guy who doesn't remember that Valarie had two fucking kids living with her. If she had heard that Jake was still alive, the first thing she would do would be to demand to see him, to make sure in person that he was alright. Benoit is doing none of these things and its scaring Jane how little he seems to care.

"That was smart of you, Mr. Benoit." Jane agrees, struggling to keep her voice carefully neutral.

They continue questioning him for another two hours before letting him go. Jane is gleeful when they leave Interview One and see Mr. Benoit to the elevator. He wrote down all of his contact information, as well as that of his brother up in Vermont for them, his right hand hesitating over the pen for just a second before his picked it up with his left.

Jane is left handed. The nuns at school could not beat it out of her, she knows with it is like to watch someone who is naturally left-handed write and Davis Benoit writes nothing like that. He holds his pen oddly and his writing is neat and concise, but somehow forced. It does not flow with the pen as it should.

"What the fuck is Rut-Vegas?" Jane demands, setting her papers down on her desk and turning to Frost. He's got his cup of coffee half-way to his mouth, but he lowers it before taking a drink.

"It's a nickname for the town. Like Las Vegas, there's a huge drug problem in Rutland - there's a chance that if Benoit did it, he was under the influence of something." Frost explains. "Meth maybe? It would explain the berserker rage."

"But nothing else about the crime," Jane groans, folding her arms across her desk and setting her head on top of them. "I know he did it. I think he's right handed too."

"Hunches aren't very scientific, Jane," Korsak says, setting a report down on top of her head. "Isn't that what the doc would say?"

"Something like that," Jane agrees, pulling the report off of her head and propping it up against her computer monitor so she can read it in her current position. "My gut says he was way too... I don't even know - non-reactive to the whole thing to be completely innocent." She flips to the next page of Korsak's report, reading intently. "This your take on the murder book?"

"Quote was from the Hitchcock film _Rope_ \- just misquoted." Korsak says as he sits down. "From what we can gather from the evidence in the book, the plan was to simply suffocate Emma and Valarie Richards and leave them in their beds. Jake was never a factor - which suggests some pre-meditation on the perp's part. Also rules out your tweaker theory, Barry."

"Shit," Frost mutters into his coffee cup.

"Don't cuss, leave that to the grownups." Jane says to him. He sticks out his tongue in response and Jane flips him off.

Camaraderie.

There's no one in the office now. She could easily tell them both - and no one would be any the wiser.

"Is Jake in the book at all?" Jane asks, pushing all thoughts of outing herself away from her mind. That is not the issue at present. For now, they must look into the clues that this book gives them.

"Not until the very end, he's mentioned a few times as a potential problem in planning, but other than that, he's not in it until the end. The person who wrote that book did not want to kill Jake unless..." Korsak shook his head, taking off his glasses and throwing them onto his desk. "I hate this case."

Jane agrees with him on that matter. She doesn't like this case at all. There's too many variables, and the actual act of the killing itself is far too convoluted to suggest a sane individual - which means Jake is in far more danger than she's willing to tell Maura. Her hand falls to her side, where her gun is still clipped to her belt. She's going to have to be extra vigilant from now on, and she doesn't like the idea of leaving Jake and Maura alone at all.

The report slides down off of Jane's monitor and falls under her keyboard. Jane fishes it out and looks from Korsak to Frost, "Yeah, it sucks, but what can we do other that solve it and get justice for them - and for Jake."

"Speaking of, how is he?" Korsak's tone is light, as if he's trying to sound disinterested, but Jane knows better. Korsak isn't very good at hiding things from her, and there's genuine concern behind his eyes and the set of his shoulders. Jane is grateful, Jake needs all the loving he can get.

"He threw his breakfast at me this morning, I had to change my shirt." Jane frowned, "And I didn't have any more."

Frost laughed, peering at her over his computer monitor. "Yeah, that's definitely the doc's shirt."

"Jesus Frost," Jane mutters; tugging at the collar of the button down she was wearing. It was Maura's - a little bit tight in the shoulders and loose in the chest and probably cost more than this week's paycheck. "Don't you have enough to worry about without taking inventory of my clothes?"

"It's not your Tuesday shirt." Frost shrugs.

Jane rolls her eyes at him. He thinks he's so clever. Just like her mother with her snide comments about how Jane and Maura should adopt Jake, about how they make a cute family.

She fucking knows, alright - she's trying not to think about it too much because then she’ll get attached and even more heartbroken when they can’t keep Jake.

"I'm gunna -" Jane stands, her chair pushing back into the desk behind her.

Maura's voice cuts across the squad room, "Going to what?" She's looking exceptionally beautiful today, hair done up in a bun and she's wearing pants tucked into boots and a white turtleneck sweater that looks soft and comfortable and oh god Jane wants to touch her.

"Take this to you actually," Jane says, holding up Davis Benoit's handwriting sample. She notices that Maura has a bag from Brueggers' in her hand - and her face erupts into a smile. "Is that ... lunch?"

"Potentially," Maura says with a vague hand gesture, not giving Jane the bag. "I wanted to tell all of you that CPS is going to be keeping Jake until the end of the day. They're having trouble finding a family that's willing to take him in after what he's been through. I told Spencer Jones that I would be more than willing to keep him until the case is solved; he seemed to think Jake was in some kind of danger..."

Jane shrugs and Korsak shakes his head ruefully, "Not danger, doc - danger of being ignored or treated as an afterthought, most definitely." He gestures to Jane who offers Maura her chair and hands her Korsak's report on the little black book as soon as she's comfortably seated. "The guy doesn't mention Jake until the last pages of the book - he had no intention to kill him except in a last minute contingency plan of his getting caught."

"How can you be certain of this?" Maura asks, flipping through the report. "This is purely conjecture based on your interpretation of what the suspect wrote in the book."

"Maur, seriously, it's got a lot of truth in it. That's why we need you to check this writing sample against the book's, to see if there's any truth to this." Jane's eyes narrowed, knowing that Maura was not going to like what she was about to say next. It needed saying, however. "I think that Benoit might be our guy."

"I wish you wouldn't rely so much on a completely unpredictable and non-tested model when it comes to following up in your investigations." Maura retorts, pushing the Brueggers' bag into her hands. "Put that into your gut and then maybe your ideas won't be so half-cooked."

"Half-baked, Maura." Jane protests, already opening the bag. "Oooh, bagel." Her face falls upon unwrapping the wax paper, "Half a bagel."

"I was hungry too." Maura says, gathering the reports and the writing samples. "There's a full salad and a cookie in there too."

"Thanks," Jane says with a smile.

Maura smiles knowingly at her and Jane knows that there's more that must be said between them, but now was not the time or the place. "Come by later, I'll have this ready." She holds up the report.

Jane nods and Maura sweeps out of the room, leaving only the smell of her perfume and the lingering scent of the morgue in her wake. She knows she’s staring after Maura like a love sick puppy but she can’t help it. When Maura’s around, Jane can’t think of anything else.

"So, Janie," Korsak says as Jane takes a bite of the bagel. It's still a little warm, and oh so delicious. "When you and the doc gettin' married?"

She nearly chokes, but swallows with some difficulty and glares at Korsak. "Don't call me that." She retorts, a terrible idea growing in her mind. The squad room is still pretty much empty and she knows that she's been given the opportunity to come clean on a silver platter. She might as well.

The worst that can happen is just more of the same. Frost isn't gunna care, and Korsak shouldn't - considering he's at least somewhat aware of some of her exes who happen to be women. Still, it's hard to say it - putting it into words is a challenge that Jane didn't think she'd ever have a problem with. She fucking loves to talk, she could talk her mother's ear off at sixteen which was a challenge then as well and now at thirty-six she's wondering if she's speechless for the first time in her life. Well, technically it was the second; the first had come when she'd first met Maura.

"And as for the marriage part, I think we should probably go beyond first base before that's even on the table."

Jane takes a bite out of her bagel and watches as Frost spits out his coffee hurriedly and begins to hack all over the floor. Korsak just laughs, head thrown back and clutching his sides.

By the time her bagel is finished, Korsak has calmed down enough to ask her if she's serious and Jane deadpans, "As a heart attack," at him which starts him up laughing again.

"So is this Jake's fault?" Frost asks as Jane sniffs the salad and decides that she's going to need to have a talk to Maura about raspberry vinaigrette and how it does not belong on her salads, ever. It doesn't taste bad, but the flavors don't go well with the rest of her salad and she's a little put out by it.

She contemplates her first bite and nods at Frost. "Yeah, a little kid forced us into bed together and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Well damn," Frost says. "I never woulda seen that coming."

"And that is why you're partnered with Rizzoli," Korsak chuckles, "Because everyone else has seen that coming for years now."

Jane raises an eyebrow at him, "Really?"

"You might as well have hung a lantern at the top of the station saying 'do not date Doc Isles,' Jane."

Oh. That was interesting. Apparently she really was that transparent. Jane realizes that she's gunna have to work on that.

"Can we get back to the manner at hand? We're gunna need to dive out to Gardner and see if Benoit's story checks out. I want to make sure that he really was in Vermont and not just skulking around his apartment or workplace or something." Jane runs a hand through her hair.

Frost rolls his eyes at her, "Yeah sure, we'll just get past this bomb and get right back into the gristly, murder stuff."

"Just give it a rest, she's obviously super uncomfortable," Jane didn't think she'd been projecting that particular emotion and opens her mouth to protest. Korsak shakes his head, silencing her. "I got a buddy in Fitchburg who could go and check his story if you want."

Jane nods, "So long as he maintains the chain of evidence, I don't particularly care. I don't want to drive an hour and a half to bumfuck, nowhere just to turn around and leave two hours later."

“There’s a really good candy shop in that neck of the woods,” Frost points out. “Bet Jake and the doc’d like some.”

Jane glares at his brown nosing evil little face and decides that she doesn’t particularly care for his plan, but she’ll be damned if he doesn’t have a point about chocolate being one of the quickest ways into Maura’s heart. “Fine, call up the dean of that school he works at, we’ll go tomorrow.”

Frost picks up the phone and begins to make calls; Jane reads over Korsak’s report a little bit more thoroughly and begins to contemplate the content analysis that Korsak did. Maura had a point; they really couldn’t pick up much from what was written in the book. They had the facts of the matter, and then the facts as laid out in the book – and a lot of stuff differed between them.

Jane worries her lip. The writing in the book is perfectly upright, giving no indication of the dominance of one hand or the other. That particular tidbit of information is intriguing, given that Davis Benoit had been so hesitant about which hand to use when writing out the addresses of his whereabouts. Jane doesn’t want to convict the guy yet, but she think s that she’s doing a damn good job of building a case against him.

She can’t believe that he just straight up fucking forgot about Jake. Who the fuck dates a woman and doesn’t remember that she has not one, but _two_ children. She doesn’t want to make it a racial thing, but jesus fuck it seems like it might be just that. Emma Richards was the perfect little girl victim for what would have been the perfect crime. Jake was an unknown, black kids get killed all the time and no one cares. Jane hates it, but it is the problem of the media. Little white girl dies, they’re all over it. Jane is surprised that she’s not getting hounded for comments at this very moment – Cavanaugh giving a statement to the media this morning might have helped with that.

But Jake. Jake’s death would have done nothing for their perp. He wanted the attention, far more than anything else. The tightening feeling in her gut tells her that this is the case.

“I’m going to see Maura,” Jane announces an hour later, having drawn out a truly spectacular timeline of events of this case on her steno pad. She called Davis Benoit’s brother up in Vermont and spoke to his very friendly wife to get the exact times of when her brother in law arrived. She mentioned that had had to run an errand ‘up to Burlington’ on Saturday and had been gone for most of the day. Curiouser and curiouser. “Call me if you need me?”

“Will do,” Frost says, covering up the receiver of the phone he’s speaking into, “Oh yes Mister Fitzwalace, what were you saying?”

The elevator is a welcome reprieve of Frost being on the phone for the past hour, and the silence as she rides down to the morgue is welcome to Jane. She wants to talk to Maura about Jake, about how his session with the psychologist went, but there simply had not been time earlier.

She frowns, tugging on her shirt tails, tucking them in half-heartedly as she did so. They’d come out while she was riding her desk, trying to get as much work as possible done if they were going to make a day trip out to the western half of the state. She’s tired of sitting around doing nothing, but with this case, there’s no stake outs or stings, just connecting the dots one after another to an obviously guilty man.

“Maura?” Jane calls, pushing open the door to Maura’s domain and squinting in the dim lighting.

“Office!” Maura responds, her hand appearing over the stack of medical equipment piled up in front of the window that looked in on her office.

Jane is across the morgue in five strides and has the door closed behind her in six. She’s grinning at Maura, who is looking up at her with an expression that clearly shows some trepidation. As she leans down, hands resting on either side of Maura’s desk chair, she can see that Maura’s eyes are wide and dark. _Perfect_ , Jane thinks, and kisses her.

Maura’s lips are pliant against her own, and Jane pushes her tongue forward as Maura opens her mouth to say something. She explores slowly, carefully, pushing her tongue into every corner of Maura’s mouth. She isn’t gentle after the initial exploration, pushing Maura back in her chair and tongue thrusting forward roughly, her hands gripping the arms of Maura’s desk chair with a white knuckled grip. She wants to touch Maura all over, but she’s resisting, simply kissing her.

Jane likes control like this, resisting the urge she feels deep within herself to twine her fingers though Maura’s hair. She knows that Maura is going to tell her not to do it again, but Jane is satisfied with the message she’s been able to convey. She pulls away, teeth grazing against Maura’s lower lip and a wicked smile on her face. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Jane…” Her voice is breathless and so fucking hot. Jane wants to hear Maura say her name like that every day and twice on Sundays, maybe more – but they do have lives and work to do.

Realization dawns on Maura’s face and her smile becomes almost coy, “You are most welcome, Jane.” She taps her finger on her cheek. “I’ll bring you lunch every day for kisses like that.”  
“What’ll the neighbors say,” Jane gestures to the coolers that line one wall of the morgue.

“Nothing, as they’re dead,” Maura responds.

Jane shakes her head. “You are way too literal.” She leans down to kiss Maura’s cheek. “But sure, I’ll kiss you like that whenever you – or _I_ \- want.”

Maura shudders and Jane knows she’s won. The past two nights they’ve shared chaste kisses, a hint of tongue and nothing more. Jane wants more, she knows that Maura probably does as well, but Jane wanted to be the one to make the next step. It seems only natural.

“So… how did that analysis go?” Jane asks, keeping the topic on work before she pulls Maura out of the chair and sits her down on countertop that lines one side of Maura’s office and takes her right there.

A report is pressed into her hands as Maura stands and crosses over to the evidence bag that’s sitting open on her work table. The black book is opened and turned to a page that they’ve determined to have (according to Maura) ninety percent of the letters in the alphabet.

“I’m not sure Mr. Benoit is your guy,” Maura says and Jane isn’t surprised. The hesitation in what hand to write with had clued her into that.

“I figured that you wouldn’t be able to say it conclusively,” Jane says quietly. “When we were in the interview, he hesitated before writing with his left hand. His letters were fine, but obviously he’s ambidextrous. He shook with his right until he had to switch for me – it was a week handshake.”

“That is hardly justification…” Maura begins, but Jane silences her with a finger on her lips.

“I know, we’re gunna go out to Gardner tomorrow and see if we can’t get some other writing samples from his boss.”

“With more samples, I’d be able to give you a more conclusive analysis.” Maura agrees.

“Good. Have dinner with me on Friday night? We’ll get Ma to watch Jo and Jake.” Jane asks before she loses her nerve.

“And Bass?”

“Yes, and your turtle.”

“Tortoise!” Maura protests as Jane laughs. Today’s been a much better day than usual so far. Jane is grateful.


	6. Jo, Jake and Bass

They're singing in the car on their way back from Gardner. Dropkick Murphys like it's going out of style. Jane tries not to think about the arrests made last time they played the Garden. The music was good, the moshpits and drunken shenanigans? The fans were typical Bostonians, but not necessarily good for their long-term health.

"Woooahhh! I'm shippin out to Boston, to find my wooden leg!" Jane tries to mime an air accordion with little success and Frost is too busy laughing at her to say much else, let alone concentrate on driving. They swerve a little until Frost calms down enough to tell her that she should probably watch a video of someone playing an accordion before attempting to imitate it. Jane scowls at him and tells him that next time he'd better have a pretty damn awesome air guitar to counter her amazing and wonderful air accordion.

It's an hour and change sort of a drive and the rush hour traffic is backed up for miles heading away from the city. Frost is driving and they're both shaking their heads and saying 'suckers' under their breath. It’s a vindictive thing, but still something that every person who has ever driven in their life thinks, driving by a long line of stand-still traffic. Even if Jane didn't live locally to Boston, she'd just take the T like a normal person and not do any of this bullshit being stuck in traffic for fucking years thing that the people who drove into the city did every goddamn day.

They’re fucking insane, every single one of them.

Boston is in Jane’s blood, she doesn’t think that she could ever not live in the very heart of things like this.

The trip had been successful – thank god, Cavanaugh would have had a fit if they’d driven all the way out there for nothing. They'd spoken at length to the dean of Mt. Wachusett Community College about Davis Benoit and he had had some very interesting thing to say about the man.

"So he's writing a novel, yeah?" Frost says, staring out at the looming Boston city skyline. They've taken route two the whole way out and into the city - Jane likes to think of it as a best kept secret from Frost's GPS as it was telling them to drive up fucking 495 and then take 93 south into the city. Bull-shit and terrible directions.

Jane flipped through her notes, "Yeah, he was secretive about it, but obsessive at the same time. Wonder what the fuck that means. We'll get a subpoena in the morning for his computer." She'd called the DA before they'd even left the parking lot of the wide, sweeping green space that was the community college.

"What if the book Jake found was a plan for his novel - not the murder?" Frost's lips are pursed and he's clearly thinking hard, running down possibilities and eventualities in his mind. Jane respects him for thinking these things through. Not a lot of young cops did these days. Frankie's the same way, and Jane loves them both for it. It saves her having to reeducate them and Jane hates doing that.

"Then he's innocent," Jane mutters. "But I don't think that's the case. Still wouldn’t’ve explained why he was there and not in Vermont like he said. And even if he was, he wouldn't have wreaked all that shit if that was the case."

She had told Jake that morning that she was going to Gardner, that they had a gigantic-ass chair there because they used to make a lot of furniture in the city. "Thing's like twenty feet tall," Jane had said and Jake had giggled into his Fruit Loops.

She’d made Frost stop outside the elementary school so that they could take a picture of it to show Jake.

Jake says Gardner like Jane does, a true Bostonian. Maura had rolled her eyes at both of them over a cup of strong Indian tea and had informed them that no one in their right mind called it 'Gahd-na'.

Jane sometimes thinks Maura is purposefully difficult and snooty about things.

Accents and proper speaking chief among them.

Frost's lips purse and they're obviously both thinking very hard about the possibility that they're barking up the wrong tree. Jane so rarely gets hunches that aren't correct, but they do happen. It’s never pretty when she jumps onto the wrong suspect, or gets a bad idea about how best to crack a case.

Korsak says she sometimes has tunnel vision about cases, but her clear-to –cold ratio is pretty damn good if Jane does say so herself.

"It's weird," Jane begins, "That Valarie and Emma and Jake meant to little to Benoit, you know? Like they were just tools for him to facilitate the perfect crime."

"You've been watching Hitchcock with Maura again, haven't you?" Frost laughs but inclines his head in agreement.

Perhaps that's the root of the problem, she _has_ been watching a lot of Hitchcock with Maura recently. She knows how guys who are obsessed with the perfect murder are portrayed in media, but this is different. Davis Benoit pulls a guttural reaction out of her that she can barely describe in words. She hates him for being so out of touch, for obviously not caring about anyone other than himself. Jane hates Davis Benoit for neglecting Jake, for making him an orphan before he ever got a chance to have a goddamn family in the first place.

"Jake likes the movies too,” Jane points out and Frost shakes his head. Jane stares at him, wondering what's bothering him, almost afraid to ask. "What?"

"Are you gunna keep him?" Frost's tone is soft, but Jane can hear the warning there. She wonders what he's on about, but resolves to listen, as good partners always should.

Jane shrugs though, she hadn't really thought about it.

That is a total lie, she has. She’s seen the way that Maura looks at him, the way that Maura is with him. She wants Jake to be her son, to be the little boy that she’s secretly always wanted, and the grandchild she was never sure she’d ever give her mother.

She knows that Jake is like a crutch, that she’s using him as a reason to push herself and Maura together and Jane wants to hate herself for doing it but finds that she can’t. Jake might have pushed them together, but Jane is damn sure that she’ll be the glue that keeps them that way.

"It's a huge conflict of interest," Frost changes lanes suddenly and veers off to the left, down a side street and a shortcut back to the precinct. Jane bites back swearing at him and waits until he finishes talking before she begins to cuss him out. "You're investigating the crime that he witnessed, and you're around him constantly. Any defense attorney worth 'is salt is gunna say you and the doc coached him about what to say."

Jane frowns, "If I had my way, he wouldn't be in that courtroom at all." She knows that Frost is right, he's always fucking right and she hates it. Jake probably should go back to wherever it is that Spencer Jones can find for him, at least until the case is solved.

Jane doesn't want to give him up. Jake is her little dude.

"If the evidence on Benoit's computer nails 'im, it shouldn't be a problem, but you're in wicked deep shit if Jake has to give testimony." They're at the precinct now and Jane is feeling rather twitchy. She wants to see Maura, to get her opinion. Maybe she should stop seeing Maura so much - stay away from them both so that it will only be Maura who is caring for Jake.

Yeah, that might be a smart plan.

Except for the part where she flat-out refuses to do that.

Her mother had told her Monday before they left for the night that Jake was as good as family.

"One day at a time, eh, Barry?" Jane says, grabbing her jacket and getting out of the car.

"Jane, I am dead fucking serious," Frost retorts.

"I know, but I gotta talk to the missus about it before I do anything." Jane laughs as Frost shakes his head.

Barry's right, though. And Jane knows it. It fucking sucks and there's nothing that she can really do about it given the current situation. She should recuse herself from the case, stay with Maura and Jake, but she can't. Not when she’s already started to investigate.

Jane Rizzoli isn't wired that way.

They speak to Cavanaugh and then to Korsak for a good hour once they return, and then it is time for Jane to go home. She's glad. She doesn't mind being at work, but she desperately wants to see Maura and to discuss what they've learned.

She takes the cruiser home; her car remains a piece of shit and in the parking garage. Jane has the early shift tomorrow, as does Maura and they're going to be dropping Jake off to spend the day with her mother at something like six in the morning. Bringing the cruiser home is the smarter plan, because that way she doesn't have to stress about getting it back before going to the DA's office to get her subpoena.  
They’re wicked lucky that Benoit commutes out to Gardner every day, because it’ll make it easy to go and get his computer from him before he leaves for work in the morning.

Frost is putting in the paperwork tonight and her phone call earlier would have at least gotten the ball rolling, but it'll be at least nine before they get it tomorrow.

Jane is gunna be a goddamn zombie in the morning.

Coffee, and copious amounts of it are in store for her.

Jake and Jo greet her at the door and Jane smiles warmly at both of them, happy to see him once again. It's only four, but Jane's been at work since six and has to do that shit again tomorrow. Still, Jake's happy smile is enough to perk her up.

"Hi Jane!" Jake is bouncing on the balls of his sneaker'ed feet. His shirt's a little stained and Jane can see dirt on his hands and nose. Maura's out in the garden again.

"Hey little dude," Jane responds, kicking off her shoes and heading towards the kitchen. She'll go change and then head outside to help Maura with whatever she's up to back there. "Maura got you digging around in the back yard?"

Jake shakes his head in the negative. "I was helping Bass hide things from Jo."

"That's mighty devious of you, Jake. What if Jo wants them back?" Jo always is a good sport about getting her stuff hidden from her. It is partially why Jane let Jake do it out of play - because Jo is a terrier mix and she likes to find things, hide them, and then find them again. Having Jake (and she supposes Bass) help just makes it more entertaining for everyone.

"Then she'll have to find 'em!" Jake giggles loudly and Jane pushes the door open before his dirty hands can get all over Maura's nice clean patio door.

There's a glass of what looks to be iced tea on the table, and a few files held down by a smooth and polished stone. Maura is standing in the middle of the yard, barefoot with her skirt playing around her ankles and looking absolutely stunning as she tries to coax Bass to come back from the far corner of the yard where he has apparently settled down to sun himself.

"Hey," Jane says, coming up behind Maura and leaning down to peck her cheek. Maura leans back into Jane and Jane wraps her arms around her. "Sorry to run a little late today."

"How did your trip go?" Maura asks. There's a strawberry in her hand and she's looking really dejected at the fact that Bass is resolutely staying put. Jane wants to kiss that pout away, and does so, lips brushing against Maura's and tongue pushing forward.

From somewhere in the corner of the yard, Jake begins singing the 'k-i-s-s-i-n-g' song and Jane pulls away to tell him to hush up and respect his elders.

Maura shakes her head at the pair of them, "Did you find any compelling evidence to indicate Mr. Benoit's guilt?"

"Perhaps," Jane shrugs.

She's being intentionally vague, and she's got handwriting samples willingly surrendered by the college of Davis Benoit's for Maura to look at in the morning. The problem is that there really isn't a lot for her to go on with what they found at his place of employment. The subpoena should be enough to get whatever's on Benoit's computer and nail him to the fucking wall.

Maura sets down the strawberry, leaving it on a raised point in the grass where Bass is sure to find it on his traipse back across the yard. Jake and Jo are over there now too, lying in the grass next to the gigantic tortoise and Jane can't help but smiling at all of them.

This is her family.

"You didn't get much did you?" Maura's tone is cutting and Jane hangs her head.

"There wasn't much to go on. We're gunna get his computer in the morning, he's writing some sort of a novel. We're gunna compare that to the murder book and hopefully - just hopefully, it'll be enough to put the smoking gun in his hand so we can get a search warrant for his car and apartment." She kicks idly dandelion head and frowns. "It just confirmed everything we'd thought so far; also that Davis Benoit is ambidextrous."

"That could explain the close but not near match I found with his handwriting," Maura muses. "I would have to compare several samples to definitively know."

"Naturally," Jane agrees. She wants to give Maura the files now, but she very intentionally left them at work so as not to disturb the careful scantily that Maura has built around her home. There’s a rule, never bring work home, that cops so rarely follow. Maura actually has pretty good luck with that rule, so Jane respects her for it.

Except when she’s antsy and wants answers right fucking now.

They both go and sit together on the patio, Jane keeping a watchful eye on Jo as she plays with Jake. She's read and investigated dog bites enough to know that until a certain age, you can never, ever trust a child around a dog or vice-versa. Jo adores Jake, yes, but Jane isn't taking any chances. Terrier breeds are notoriously bitey if not well-supervised.

"Barry said something to me, on the way back today," Jane doesn’t know why she's even bringing it up. She and Maura have already decided that they can't let Jake go to a group home, and the agency is having trouble placing him with another family presently. Maura's gunna have to enroll him in school soon if they're going to keep him - they're already pushing it as most schools started on Tuesday.

Jesus kids are hard.

"Oh?" Maura sips her tea and looks at Jane with concern. Jane shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She doesn't want to be the one to tell Maura this, but she knows that she has to be.

She leans back, staring up at the clear blue sky. It's still hot out, still late summer, even if there's a hint of a chill in the air at night sometimes. The leaves won't start turning for another few weeks at least, but she's sweating and it's not due to the warmth of the day. "He said that we've gotta be careful, that any defense attorney worth his salt will be able to say that we coached Jake if he ever needs to give testimony in court."

"I had considered that, yes," Maura has thinned her lips into a thin line and is contemplating a fingernail with great interest. Jane wonders if this is the build-up to a fight. "What do you suppose we do about it?"

"I don't know." She's telling the truth too. She has no fucking clue what to do. Jake needs to be looked after and Jane does not want to send him to a group home if she can avoid it. Maura's been a constant for Jake that has eased this transition and the trauma of having two people he loved so dearly ripped from him in such a violent way. Jane can't take that away from him.

That leaves only one option.

"I'll go," She says quietly, puzzle pieces falling into place. "If I'm not here, then it's not an issue. You're involved in the case, but technically your involvement only goes as far as the morgue. I'm investigating, I have bias. If I'm not here -"

"Don't," Maura's face is white and her eyes are frightened-looking. "Find proof, find something, anything, but don't you dare leave me, Jane Rizzoli. Don't you abandon him."

Jane looks away. "It would only be until the case is solved."

"No, you are vital in Jake's routine now, you cannot leave." There is something so completely resolute about Maura's expression that Jane wants to throw up her hands in defeat and promise her unwavering devotion to remaining a constant in poor Jake's turbulent life.

She can't though - she's doing the right thing, "We'll see what we find tomorrow, I might have no choice, Maura."

They fall into silence and don't talk after that, watching Jo, Jake and Bass play together in the sun. Well, Jo and Jake are playing, Bass is zenning on his rock and Maura is looking more and more alarmed at how dirty Jake is getting. Jane eventually wrestles him and Jo inside and makes Jake change his clothes and shower before dinner. Maura has to carry Bass inside and is rather annoyed with him when he retreats into the bathroom and refuses to come out. Jane laughs and tells Maura that he's cold-blooded and he'd rather continue to sun himself.

Dinner is quiet and Jake is not full of his usual chatter. Jane wonders if he’s picked up on the tension between Maura and herself. They eat and talk a little about what they might do that weekend. Jane has to work Saturday, but Maura is off and she’s thinking about taking Jake down to see the duck boats on the river. Jake has never been, Jane thinks it’s a tragedy.

She can’t let Jake go. She doesn’t want this; she can’t let it come to fruition.

Maura wears that same oversized BCU t-shirt to bed that night and Jane can’t keep her hands to herself, running fingers along the hem of it, whispered promises on her lips that she knows she can’t keep. Maura’s skin is soft under her fingers and Maura is kissing her and Jane can’t think of any place she’d rather be.

She rolls on top of Maura, hands tangling in her hair, and Jane just stares at this beautiful woman she’s come to be so attracted to.

“Don’t you think we should go out before we go all the way,” the question sounds silly, but Jane doesn’t want to stop, and Maura’s fingers already under her shirt.

Maura’s laugh is light and airy, she buries her nose in Jane’s hair and Jane can feel lips brush against her ear lobe. “There’s a lot we can do without going all the way, Jane.”

Jane shivers and turns her head to catch Maura’s lips again. There’s so much she wants to say to her, to convey in ways that words can’t quite find. Her kiss is her promise and her fingers twine together with Maura’s as her lips linger there, content and peaceful, the untapped passion between them held at bay for just a few more minutes.

She’s afraid to go much further. She’s afraid that it won’t be special or that she’ll lose her cool or that Maura will decide that she doesn’t want to do this.

When they’ve finished, and Jane is curled protectively around Maura, she presses her lips against the pulse point on Maura’s neck and reverently promising to never leave her.

The next morning Jane is at the DA’s office at nine-oh-five to pick up their subpoena for Davis Benoit’s computer and his subsequent records contained therein. She’s been up since five, having had to wait for Maura to finish showering before she could start her day. (Maura had, rather flirtatiously, suggested that they shower together, but Jane’s mind had gone straight to the gutter at that point and she had merely swallowed and said that she didn’t think that that was a good idea, as wonderful as it sounded.) Jake had been delivered with Jo to her mother’s, still bundled up in his bedclothes and a blanket, and they’d gone into work together. She hands it to Frost, who tucks it into his jacket pocket and they’re off to Cambridge, banging on his door before he has a chance to leave for the day.

His first class is at twelve thirty and it’s an hour drive, so he’s still in the process of getting ready when he opens the door, tie half done up to find Jane leaning against the door frame, casual smile and wicked grin on her face. “Hello Mr. Benoit.”

“Detective, what’s this about?” Benoit wipes his hands on his shirt tails and holds out his hand for Jane to shake. It’s his left this time, and Jane switches to her right hand without thinking.

“Can we come in?” Jane asks. She doesn’t want to do this out in the street.

“Certainly, did you find anything on Valarie?” He steps aside to let Jane and Frost come in, standing in front of a mirror in his immaculately clean Ikea-furnished apartment to finish doing up his tie. It is as sterile as a doctor’s office in here, and as impersonal. Jane doesn’t like it.

“We’re not sure,” Frost begins. “We do, however, have a subpoena for here for your computer records. Your workplace already complied with all of your work files, but we had a rather interesting conversation with your boss yesterday and we’d like to have a look at your novel.”

Benoit seems annoyed, but sighs in acquiesce. “Do you want it on a flash drive?”

Frost shakes his head. “We’d need to take your whole computer, probably just for a few days.”

Jane’s fingers are on the handle of her gun, making sure it’s unclipped as she paces around the room, letting Frost do the talking. This is how they do this when they’re on the job together. It’s easier this way, Jane doesn’t need to act like a crazy person and Frost can usually sweet-talk a suspect into thinking that this is just routine and that there’s nothing to worry about.

They’re all suckers like that.

She sniffs. Nothing is out of place in this apartment, it’s a little creepy.

“How will I work?”

Jane grins at him, patting him on the back as he hands over his laptop and power cord. “I dunno, write it out long hand like Hemmingway or something?”

“You mean in a moleskine?” Benoit sighs and fiddles with his tie clip. Jane waits with baited breath, wondering if he really is that dumb, or that fucking cocky, to fall into such an obvious trap. “I think I lost mine when I was up in Vermont with my brother over the weekend.”

Jane smiles at him, knowing that they’ve probably got him dead to rights. Frost, from behind Benoit’s half-turned head, gives her a thumbs up. “I hear Borders is going out of business, maybe you can get another one on the cheap there.”


	7. Little Black Book

**Notes:** This is planned to be nine parts, with the plot fairly well mapped out. Will be x-posting to and will respond to reviews both here and there. Takes place sometime within canon but not after the S1 finale.

* * *

"Can't believe that guy," Jane mutters. She has a printed copy of Davis Benoit's novel and is comparing the parts of it that the guys downstairs with the forensic computer skills have noticed a

"Can't believe that guy," Jane mutters. She has a printed copy of Davis Benoit's novel and is comparing the parts of it that the guys downstairs with the forensic computer skills have noticed as relevant to the murder book they found at the crime scene. "He planned this whole damn thing."

Frost and Korsak both grunt their agreement while running comparison on several other sections. They did what they usually do, split the list, divide and conquer. Jane leans back in her chair, stretching and listening as her spine cracks back into alignment. She's been her for too long.

Checking her watch, Jane sighs. It's just after six and Maura's going to be expecting her to come home soon. Jane hasn't seen Maura all day; she's been so buried in Davis Benoit's crappy mystery novel and murder book. She hopes that Jake is okay, alone with her mother. Her mother who had promised to take Jake to get his hair retwisted.

God, Jane has no idea where her mother got the idea that that would be a good idea - but Jake's hair grows very quickly and it does need to be washed. Maura had suggested that maybe she could do it, but Jane wants it done by a professional, she won't have Jake looking like a fool because a bunch of white women tried to do his hair. Oh hell no.

"Are you gunna head out?" Frost is single and Korsak, eyebrows raised and half-way accusatory glare marring his usually kind face, has no one to go home to. Jane supposes that she's the odd man out with not one but two people eagerly looking forward to her return.

"Yeah,” Jane shrugs. "I can stay if you need me though." She's not going to back down from them if they need her help still. She's far too good a cop for that shit.

Korsak shakes his head and Jane can see Frost's jaw clench. She gets it, he's made his point. Jane has told him resolutely that unless there is no other option she is not going to abandon the careful world that they've built for Jake. He needs Jane, just like she is finding herself needing him. She promised to be there for him, she can't back down.

"I just hope you know what you're doing," Korsak says and Jane scowls at him, face pulling downwards and her whole posture becoming rigid. "This case gets thrown out the window if we can't prove Benoit's guilt without Jake's testimony."

Jane shakes her head. She's dealt with child witnesses before. They are finicky and unreliable. A good defense attorney will get them talking in circles and second-guessing things that they saw clearly before their own eyes. The state does not like to call child witnesses unless there is no other option. Jane is more than willing to have her own creditability questioned if it means that Jake will be spared testifying.

"Look, the book and the murder have the exact same fucking MO; you can't tell me that this isn't something to go on." Jane runs a hand through her hair moodily, clipping her gun to her belt and pulling on her jacket. It's hot as balls outside but if she doesn't wear it she'll forget it and then it'll never get washed. "We just have to wait for DNA results to come back on the book in comparison to what we found under Valarie Richard's fingernails and I'm pretty sure we'll have him dead to rights."

She's almost looking forward to getting him back in the interrogation room. They're going to have a lot to talk about.

Maura put a rush on the DNA analysis, but because of the holiday weekend it did not actually get shipped or processed until Tuesday so the earliest they'd be hearing back would be tomorrow or Saturday. Jane isn't holding her breath, cases have been held up by worse before.

"You really need to distance yourself from the kid, Jane - especially if this goes to trial,” Korsak stands and Jane shoves her hands into her blazer pocket, glaring at him. She gets it. "I hope the guy pleads out too, but he's the arrogant sort who probably thinks he can win at trial. Your involvement with Jake gives him a chance to actually be right."

"I get it, I get it,” Jane throws up her hands, palms up, scars thin and angular across them. They're hurting, they always do before storms. "'s not like we haven't been working so much that the only person even remotely associated with me that he sees is either my mother or my dog."

Frost snorts and throws down the stack of papers that he's been reading. "I'm with Jane - let's just call it a night, if anything comes up, the duty officer can call."

Jane holds up her hand for Frost to high five as they leave the bullpen together, Korsak shaking his head as he watches them go. She can swear she hears him mutter 'kids these days' but that can't be correct as Korsak clearly is not a grumpy old man. No, not at all.

"Maura won't let me leave," Jane confesses to Frost as they head towards the T station. It's hotter now than it was at lunchtime and Jane can feel the heat rising up from sidewalk through her boots. Their pace quickens. "I told her that I thought I should and she argued with me until I agreed to stay."

"She's got you right where she wants you," Frost nods his approval. "I like it, you're more mellow."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jane demands. She's flipped open her phone and is texting Maura that she's headed home. The T Station is a five minute walk from Maura's house and sometimes, when Jane doesn't feel like driving the cruiser through rush-hour traffic, she'll take it home. Frost goes in the other direction, towards the North End.

The clouds are looking even more ominous than before and the air is thick and still. Rain is coming.

"Just that she knows how to get you to do what she wants," Frost shrugs. "I still think you should distance yourself from him, Jane - but you have a point about the DNA. If we have a link on the book, which clearly follows Benoit's novel outline, and the same DNA under Valarie's fingernails as was found in the book - we have a strong case for a warrant for DNA." He digs in his pocket and pulls out a train pass, holding it between two long fingers as they head down the steps and into the station.

"I agree," Jane nods. She's banking on it anyway. "By the way, do you know how to lock hair?" Jane feels awkward asking, it’s not exactly something you ask your coworkers in the first place - and she does her damnest to ignore the fact that Frost is black. It doesn't make a difference in his police work, in his sunny disposition or his hilarious catfights with Frankie at the Robber. Still she knows that there are cultural differences, that though their upbringing might have been similar, she clearly had the advantage because of the whiteness of her skin. She doesn't like to think about it, makes her feel sick to her stomach - but she's taking care of a little black boy and has no idea how to do some of the things that she knows she has to for Jake's sake.

Frost raises an eyebrow, "I might..."

Jane's glad he's not offended.

"Okay good, Ma took Jake to get his hair washed and redone today and I have no idea where she took him. We might need to do damage control."

Frost grins. "I'll call my cousin Alice if you need help - she's way better at this stuff than I am."

Jane waves at him and they head off in opposite directions. Jane's card needs to be refilled, but she's got a few more fares on it and really wants to get home before the rain if at all possible.

Her phone beeps as she's waiting for the train, its Maura, offering to come and get her if it starts to rain. Jane replies that that would be awesome and hopes it doesn't come to that, she really could use the walk to burn off some of the pent-up nervous energy she has trapped inside of her.

The train is packed with people, Jane has to shove herself in between an annoyed looking older woman and a young looking college student flipping through shit on his phone. She's holding on to the railing for dear life as the train lurches forward and she still accidentally bumps into the college kid.

"Whoa there lady," He says with a lecherous grin and Jane rolls her eyes at him and gestures downwards to the gun and the badge. The kid's face falls and Jane shakes her head.

Kids these days.

There's a crying baby somewhere further up the far and Jane is scowling and in a bad mood when she gets off seven stops later. The train has gone from underground to above ground and the sky is threatening to open up at any moment. The air is even more still, the calm before the storm and Jane debates calling Maura to ask for a ride. If she walks, it will inevitably start to rain.

Jane doesn't care enough; she's got so much on her mind with this case, with Jake, with how to be the best parent she can possibly be. She takes off down the road, walking past the empty Dunkin Donuts and the drycleaners that is conveniently located for all those who live in this upscale neighborhood. Maura's house is about three blocks from here, just after the smattering of businesses fade away into residential houses.

Jane jams her hands into her pants pockets and begins to run over the details of the case once again. They must be missing something. The whole thing has been rather easy, honestly.

There weren't any finger prints on the book. They checked every goddamn page. That was strange to Jane, as they clearly found skin follicles and a hair as well. She suspects that it was written with gloves on, or over time the prints gave way to smudges. The thing is full to the brim with messy, oftentimes unintelligible handwriting; they've found smears all over the place, just nothing solid.

Still, if the DNA matches, they'll have probable cause to request a DNA sample from Benoit. Hopefully he won't lawyer up at that point, Jane wants to get him into interrogation and ask him some very pointed questions.

She feels the first smatterings of rain as she cuts through Mrs. Merkowitz's lawn. She hops the low fence that divides the yards and high tails it across the driveway. The sky is darker still and its contents are about to burgeon forth. Jane pushes her key into the lock and dives inside just as the deluge starts.

"You beat the rain," Jake observes from where he's sitting on the stairs. There's a copy of _The Wind and the Willows_ open on his lap and he's currently checking out a picture of Badger and Mr. Toad. Jane wonders if this is Maura's copy from her childhood or if it's a new version.

"I ran like the wind," Jane laughs, pulling off her boots. "You reading about Badger?"

"No," Jake says, hair sticking up every which way. Jane hopes it calms down soon - it looks as though he's just been in a wind tunnel. "Maura was reading to me, but she left to make dinner."

Jane nods solemnly and leaves him to it. She heads into the kitchen, wondering where Maura is, where Jo and Bass are. Maura's contemplating the refrigerator, one finger pressed pensively against her lips.

"Hi," Jane says, leaning in, lips brushing against Maura's cheek.

Maura turns, smile on her face and Jane pulls her in close, hands resting on Maura's hips and kisses her more fully. She lingers there, for a moment, full of the feeling of coming home and of contentment. "I beat the rain," she announces, burring her nose in Maura's hair.

"You did indeed." Maura's laugh is pleasant and kind. The rain is really coming down outside now, and Jane shivers involuntarily as a flash of lightning illuminates the room. She doesn’t much care for storms.

"I have no idea what to make for dinner,” Maura confesses, and Jane throws her head back and laughs.

She closes the fridge and tells Maura that she'll take care of it, before shooing her back towards Jake's perch on the stairs. "Go read to Jake."

Jane refuses to force Maura into a role that she might not be comfortable with. She'll make dinner; she will not force Maura barefoot into the kitchen, no matter how wonderful the mental image might be ****.

* * *

There's a strange sense of nervousness that settles onto Jane as she calls in a dinner reservation at what she hopes will be an intriguing choice for Maura. The guy on the other end tells her in broken English that he cannot exactly reserve her a table as the restaurant is very small, but if she were to come a little later in the evening, say seven thirty, it is usually pretty slow. Jane thanks him for his time and hangs up, wondering if this is too random or too casual for a first date. She wants it to be perfect.

Frost looks over his computer monitor at her and raises his eyebrows, "You got a date tonight Rizzoli?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jane's retort is good natured. "Wanna hear my ace in the hole?"

"Shoot."

"Ken's Ramen. It's in the Super 88." When Frost doesn't look impressed, Jane continues, "Maura loves Asian food, and this is the best place in the entire city to get real ramen," she grins, "And I know for a fact that she's never been."

"That um... that's some romantic date to a food court there Jane." Frost’s tone suggests that he’s joking, but Jane can see the concern clearly written across his face. He doesn’t want her to fuck this up. Hey, it’s a vote of confidence.

Jane kicks him under the table.

"I think it's a great idea," Korsak says from behind his newspaper. This is technically their lunch hour. "The doc is always off to some high-falutin' place. That place has real food, delicious food that doesn't come looking like hours have been put into just puttin' it on the damn plate."

"THANK YOU," Jane slams her hands down on her desk as she leans forward, fingers curling in her hair. "But I do see your point, Barry."

She's worried that it's not enough, that Maura will be unimpressed. She'll be too polite to say it, Jane knows Maura well enough to know that. Jane pulls at her hair, frowning at the paperwork in front of her. She can't stand days like this when they're playing the waiting game. It's worse than the DMV, sitting for hours on end for now discernable reason. They have their guy; have him dead to rights on handwriting analysis and clear parallels between his own writing and the murder as perpetrated. Yet without DNA they can do nothing, they cannot search Benoit's home, or his person. They cannot formally arrest him. Jane hates this. Hates the waiting game.

"If you think that the doc will like it then I say by all means do it," Frost shrugs. He flips a paper over. "First dates can have meaning for a lot of different reasons, Jane."

"How do you know it's the first date?" Jane demands moodily, not looking up from where her hair has fallen across her face.

Frost laughs and Korsak rolls his eyes at the pair of them. "You wouldn't be so freaked out if you'd done this before."

"Do you think she'll wear jeans if I ask her to?" Jane mutters.

"Nope," Frost says, clicking at something his computer. "Check this out."

They're looking at evidence, comparing it, knowing full-well that they have Davis Benoit, looking for more reasons that the DA might use to get him and get him for good, it eats into the afternoon and soon it's six and Jane's gathering her blazer and the Tupperware from lunch. She's glad she bought coffee today, because she doesn't have enough hands to carry her coffee mug as well.

Maura is waiting for her in the lobby, and Jane smiles easily at her. It's strange, she feels like a real parent. Mrs. Merkowitz's granddaughter is around Jake's age and is visiting for the weekend. She offered to let him spend the night to have some sort of meaningful interaction with a child his own age - Jane had no idea why she was so very concerned about this, but Mrs. Merkowitz is a very nice woman and Jane isn't about the look a gift horse in the mouth. Still, Jane's concerned about Jake. He's not exactly had the best week of it so far.

"I called Jake at Mrs. Merkowtiz's," Maura confesses as they head to the parking garage. "He's fine. They're going to watch _The Lion King_ and maybe a Pink Panther movie tonight."

Jane frowns, thinking of the scene from one of those movies at the nudist colony. "You sure that the Pink Panther's appropriate for a kid Jake's age?"

"It's all in good fun," Maura shrugs. "Louanne mentioned it to me as a potential second choice should they not fall asleep after the other film."

They put their things into the trunk of Maura's car, Jane accepting the keys as they are handed to her. She's secretly glad that it was a slow day, it means they can go straight from work, that they're not going to have to go home to wash blood and gross and guts off of themselves before they can have a nice evening out together. "To tell you the truth," Jane grins, opening the door for Maura and watching as she slides into place effortlessly. She leans forward, over the door, and brushes a lock of hair off of Maura's forehead. "I wouldn't mind curling up with you and watching some Peter Sellers."

It is Maura's turn to smile, "They are quite hilarious, aren't they?"

Nodding her agreement, Jane puts the car into gear and backs out of the parking space. They drive in silence until they head out of the well-lit parking garage and into the growing dusk.

"So, where are you taking me?" Maura asks.

"Top secret super special magical dateplace." Jane is fairly proud of that response. It gives nothing away, but makes Maura look, if anything, more intrigued. Jane likes it when she's able to take Maura's mind and engage it effortlessly. She feels powerful then, proud. It's weird, because she knows that she could be the dumbest dipshit on earth and Maura would probably still listen to what she had to say. Jane just likes that she can so completely capture Maura's attention. They're a good pair, that's what she's always told herself.

Only now it's becoming more real. More terrifying. She's finally said the words, done the deed and is faced with third and long and one Hail Mary pass to win the game. Maura's heart lies at the other end and fuck, Jane is so terrified she's gunna fuck it up.

The drive takes them through the heart of Boston; Jane looks out across the common when they end up stuck at a light and sighs, "Sometimes I wish I had gone away to college on scholarship somehow."

Maura's fingers trace patterns over Jane's leg. "Why?"

It sounds really stupid when she says it out loud, but Jane tries anyway, "I wanted to get out of Boston - you know - to see the world. I always knew that I wanted to be a cop, I just kinda wished that I'd taken the time before making all those commitments." The light changes and Jane accelerates, turning left, following - but not paying attention to the signs for Quincy Market. They're going near the market, Jane is going to try to park in the lot there, or else she's gunna have to find somewhere else to land the car. She's not going to park Maura's car on the street. "Now I just work all the time."

Maura smiles and Jane hooks a right, turning down a side alley and heading towards a lot where she parks when she goes to Sox games. The walk isn't bad, Jane's been sitting all day, she could use the exercise.

"Don't feel bad about doing something you believe in, Jane. You're too good at your job to have second thoughts about it now."

The lot is close to empty and the walk really isn't that bad. Maura switches to her clogs and Jane is a little put out because she does like Maura's shoes. Mostly because they're hot as hell and Jane has always secretly wanted to see Maura with just those on and nothing else.

Maura's fingers brush against Jane's hand and Jane turns her palm so that their fingers can lock together and they walk down the street. For a Friday night, it's fairly quiet. Jane knows why, but is carefully ignoring her urge to go to a bar and watch the Sox probably piss away their wild card chances to the Rays. The game's at home, they're close to Fenway - no one's gunna be out for at least another two or so hours.

The Super 88 is a collection of Asian restaurants and vendors within a very small space that almost appears to be a food court, save for the labyrinthine corridors and little store fronts that make the place seem a whole lot bigger than it is. Maura recognizes the locale almost instantly and Jane can see the easy smile that spreads across her red painted lips.

"I know that this isn't exactly the nicest place in the world, but since it's kinda chilly today, I thought that you'd maybe like to have some ramen with me?" Jane pushes the door to the Super 88 and heads down the wood paneled corridor, pulling Maura down the hallway with an excited grin on her face as Maura's face blossoms into a laugh and then an enthusiastic nod.

Ken's Ramen is a small restaurant front, open with an eclectic combination of chairs and tables gathered in front of a counter towards the back. Jane orders for them both, as Maura manages to find a free table amid the late ball-game goers and family of four out to dinner. As Maura sprays down the table with the pocket sized bottle of medical grade disinfectant, Jane smiles apologetically to the woman behind the counter and whispers that she's sorry. Her friend is a little neurotic. The girl shrugs, "We get them all the time in here."

It's strange, being on a date, eating noodles with chopsticks and slurping as disgustingly as they can possibly arrange at each other. Jane doesn't feel any different from all the million other times that she and Maura have eaten out together, but there is something different - she's almost terrified just thinking about it. Maura is here just for her, and all Jane wants to do is kiss her.

"That," Jane says after they leave. "Was amazing."

Maura nods her agreement, "I had no idea that they even existed. How did you know about this place and never take me here before?" There's a little bit of a good natured accusatory tone in Maura's voice that makes Jane stick her tongue out at Maura.

"Well, Martinez and I went here one night after a particularly awful baseball game. The beer there is wicked cheap and it was balls cold outside so we needed something to warm up." Jane tugs on a lock of hair, flipping up the collar on her blazer against the wind that's picked up. She's glad Maura has a jacket, because Jane's pretty cold and doesn’t want to have to give up her coat. She would, if Maura were to ask, but she's grateful that she doesn't need to at the time being. She shivers. "I was saving it," Jane confesses. "For the right moment."

They're alone, no one is in the lot, and Jane leans forward, kissing Maura, pushing her up against the car door. Maura makes an undignified sound, but wraps her arms around Jane's shoulders, overly-large purse banging against her back. Maura is warm and her body is soft against Jane. She pulls away, lips lingering against Maura's for as long as possible before she whispers, "I saved it for this."

Maura's fingers trail down Jane's cheeks. "This was wonderful," she says quietly. Her lips are warm, pressed against Jane's. "Take me home."

There's a promise in those words and Jane can do nothing but comply. She doesn't linger, but she does drive slowly. Working up the nerve to do this, to go through with what she had secretly desired from that indeterminable point in time when she realized that she was indeed, probably, hopefully, desperately in love with Maura Isles. Jane swallows, watching as Maura shifts, shedding her coat and staring out the window, her hand never leaving Jane's thigh.

It's weird, bizarre. Jane knows what she's going to do and she's terrified of it. Terrified that she'll fuck this up, that it's been too long and that she's gunna be suddenly bad with at this.

The lights are off at Maura’s – Jane hits the button for the garage that’s clipped to the visor and Maura sighs quietly. “I hope that Jacob is going to be alright…”

Jane smiles at Maura, putting the car into park and cutting it off. She hands Maura her keys and leans forward, brushing her lips against Maura’s cheek. “He’ll be fine. It’s good for him to do things like this after such an event – it makes him feel normal.” There’s a lot that Jane doesn’t want to think about when it comes to Jake right now. They’re probably going to have to distance themselves from him – from the family that they’ve formed and it hurts so goddamn much. Jane just wants this night to be about her, about Maura, about whatever it is that they’re building together.

Maura unlocks the door and they go in through the garage, Jane unclipping her gun and badge and leaving them on top of the refrigerator as Maura pauses to feed Bass. They’ll be safe there, Jake won’t have access to them when he comes home tomorrow. Jane’s been paranoid about that, she’s read the stories about kids with unattended not safety-locked guns.

There are no words. They are silent, quiet, Jane follows Maura upstairs, down the hall and into her bedroom. There’s more kissing, Maura’s dress is surprisingly easy to unzip and Jane’s hands are everywhere, touching – claiming every inch of exposed skin as she comes across it – refusing to let any territory go unexplored.

Jane ends up naked, on her back, Maura hovering over her and Jane has no idea how it happened. She doesn’t care though, Maura can do fucking amazing things with her tongue and Jane is close, oh so close.

This is their dance, the final coda after so many days and weeks and years of dancing around each other. Jane rocks against Maura as Maura moves against her. It is hot and sweaty and passionate and god, Maura is so fucking good. Jane groans out her release, pushing harder and harder into Maura, never wanting to let go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter details Jane and Maura's first date, as well as some more development on the case. The place where Jane takes Maura is ... as far as I can gather, the ramen place I went to near Quincy Market last time I spent any extended amount of time in Boston. I wasn't driving that day, however, so I have no idea if I'm actually correct in my assumption that this place was indeed in the Super 88 complex. Pretty sure it was though.


	8. Growing Too Attached

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay where to begin. First of don't be mad at me, it's unrealistic to expect such a utopian ideal at the end of the road. But the hero gets a feather in the metaphorical cap and we all grin and take it like a boss. A lot of you were hoping for something better, but it's been set up since day one, the signs were all there. One more chapter to go with this, let's take the plunge.
> 
> Please don't hate me for what I'm about to do.

The problem, Jane reasons as she tries to press her face further into the warm snuggly thing she's curled around, with mornings is sunlight. Sunlight ruins a perfectly good dream with blinding light and Jane is pretty sure she was just about to win the bride of the roses before she is pulled violently from sleep. Sunlight works its way under covers and Maura's hair and into pillows. It's everywhere; can't get rid of it.

Jane Rizzoli _hates_ sunlight. Not in the 'I'm a sparkly vampire' sort of way, but in the ruining perfectly good and totally epic dreams sort of mindset. She knows that an egregious wrong has been committed against her even before she is yanked bodily from her sleep and into the waking world.

She groans and rolls over, eyes easing open as she stares up at the ceiling. She's naked, it feels weird - Jo is asleep on her foot, which is asleep. There's so much about this situation that makes Jane want to run for her clothes, for the door, for anything to make the past evening's activities seem like a dream.

A beautiful wonderful dream that the goddamn sun ruined.

Basically, mornings are bullshit.

Jane feels so out of place, so unimportant and intrusive in this room. She can see her pants crumpled on the floor, Maura's dress draped over the back of the rocking chair that Jane had dragged in there two nights ago when Jake was having trouble sleeping. The room looks like the chaos she introduces to to the perfectly pristine life of Maura Isles.

Not for the first time, Jane wonders if she belongs in such a sanctuary.

Sometimes, when Jane really allows herself to think about, she can't believe her fucking luck. This past week alone has been enough to give Jane pause, to make her question everything that she knows about herself and about her life goals.

Between this thing with Maura that is quickly turning into far more than a _thing_ and the situation with Jake that Jane is still not entirely convinced isn't going to end badly; Jane's been on edge. Unease fills her and she shifts, curling back into Maura, kissing her temple and nudging her awake. It's early yet, but they have to be humans and dressed and presentable when Mrs. Merkowitz brings Jake back.

Maura stirs and Jane smiles, falling back down onto the pillow, and resting there, content. Maura's eyes flutter open and Jane smiles, easy and smooth at her.

Yeah, she's still got it.

It's been years since she's actually meant it, but the gestures and the easiness of this will probably forever be a mystery to her. It's a cockiness, a mannishness that Jane's never known that she's truly possessed until this moment. This is how a guy would behave.

It makes her uncomfortable to think about, she's not sure that that's who she is.

"Hey," Maura's voice is still filled with sleep and tiredness and she almost sounds like she's from Boston at this hour of the morning before her schooling and proper upbringing can chase the 'r's back into her vernacular. "What times is it?"

Jane rolls and Maura makes a protesting noise until Jane turns back over. Maura settles herself back against Jane as Jane answers her, "Just after seven."

"Jacob will be back at nine," Maura says, lips pressed against Jane's neck. Jane can see where Maura's mind is going, she _likes_ where Maura's mind is going. She sits back, lets Maura pace them - this is only the second time.

God, it felt like forever.

Maura's hands shift and Jane squeaks, Maura's hands are fucking cold over sensitive skin. They linger on Jane's breasts, on her hips and the smooth expanse of her stomach. "Your hands are freezing," Jane hisses at her, trying to squirm away.

There's a twinkle in Maura's eye that Jane does not find exactly encouraging, as Maura's hands end up even closer to more sensitive areas. Jane's thighs clench together at the cool intrusion and Maura forces them back apart. She's surprisingly strong, but Jane's always known that - she's seem Maura lift a man's leg by herself after removing it for x-ray and further inspection. It's disturbing to see that strength pushing her down now, telling her that this was how it was going to be.

Jane doesn't like being out of control, but she trust Maura to make this okay.

"Jane," Maura breathes, leaning down, leaning in - eyes dark and intense. "Don't fight me." Her lips push harshly against Jane's, tongue giving way to teeth and the relentless precision of Maura's kiss.

Jane feels like she's drowning. Maura Isles is a damn good kisser, but Jane knew that before. She's always known that Maura liked sex, but not to the point where she feels woefully under-experienced and unadventurous. It's a strange feeling, like she's just along for the ride, but Jane isn't prepared to back down without a fight.

Her hands are in Maura's hair, Maura's hand is already pushing up and into her ever so slightly, teasing, making Jane's hips buck. She loves this, goddamn loves this. Maura's a tease and Jane will beg her before this over.

She loves how Maura can make her feel when no one else has ever brought her close to this. Her own fucking hand hasn't brought her this far.

"Maura," Jane's clawing at Maura's back, her hips, her ass, anything to gain traction, to hold on, to ground herself. She's falling, she's flying.

Pressure builds and Maura's pushing into her again and again, closer and closer. Curiouser and curiouser. Jane can count on one hand the number of orgasms she's had with sexual partners. She's not hard to get off; just that guys don't fucking care and it's all about dominance with them anyway. Maura's just doing this for her and oh god.

Jane groans kissing Maura hard and trying not to cry out. This feels so goddamn good and Maura's not slowing down.

Her head falls back on the pillow and she sees white, Maura's teeth closing around that sensitive spot on her neck.

It is hard and fast and Maura's hands are anything but cold. Jane lies on the bed when it's over, staring at the ceiling. "How the hell did you get so good at that?" she demands, watching as Maura comes back from the bathroom and washing her hands.

Her view of naked Maura, which Jane likes far more than Maura in a bathing suit or Maura in spandex, is obscured by a robe and Jane's put out.

Clothed shoulders shrug and Maura sits on the edge of the bed, a thoughtful look on her face. "I never do anything half way," she explains and Jane is grateful, because if that was only half-way, she's probably going to die if Maura ever gives it her all.

"You're amazing," Jane says for what she feels is the thousandth time in the last five minutes. Maura is everything, Jane can't even find the words to truly explain how amazing Maura is. This is a feeling that Jane's felt before and it terrifies her. She's known about this love, this attraction for so long that it seems almost natural to continue to nurture and cherish it - but the feeling of unyielding passion and adoration is new and terrifying. Jane isn't sure she's ready for this.

"Thank you," Maura is always polite. She settles and Jane reaches out for her. Their morning has been wonderful, the day is going to start soon. Jane has it off, but they've gunna have Jake today and Jane wants to go to the park and play some ball with him.

Maura's phone is still in her purse, shoved into the rocker that still plays host to Maura's dress from last night. Jane can hear it vibrating and watches with half-lidded eyes as Maura rises, almost wearily, to answer it. It can't be another dead body; they haven't had a day off together in a long time.

Jane mouths at Maura to have Sahid or Park do it because it's her day off and Maura shushes her before answering. "Doctor Isles."

There's a pause and Maura's face falls. "Yes, Spencer. Hang on, Jane's here as well, let me put you on speaker."

Maura presses her phone into her shoulder, "its Spencer Jones - about Jake."

Jane nods, shifts, and Maura pushes the speakerphone button on the side of her phone.

"Hey Spence," Jane begins, trying to sound conversational. It's eight fifteen on a Saturday morning. Doesn't he have better things to do? Like sleep? Or... she doesn't know, watch College Gameday? That's on... in fucking two hours. Jesus, it's early. "What's kickin'?"

Spencer Jones' voice fills the room and Jane can feel the dread clench at the base of her stomach - all the happy euphoria of the previous hour gone in an instant. She shifts closer to Maura, hand coming to rest on her lover's hip.

"This is about Jacob," Spencer begins and Jane nods even though he isn't there. Force of habit to acknowledge attentiveness. "I have been following the investigation into the murder of Valarie and Emma Richards closely and I understand that you are coming to an arrest soon?"

Jane frowns, chewing on her lip. She can't discuss the specifics of the case with anyone other than another LEO or a DA (or Maura), but she grunts her agreement and says, "We've got some solid leads, yeah."

"Good, then it will be of the utmost important that we act quickly." Spencer's voice crackles with static and Jane turns to see the rigidity in Maura's shoulders and knows that this probably is not going to be good.

"Act on what?" Maura asks, fingers seeking Jane's and intertwining them, holding on as if for dear life.

"CPS has determined that there is a great risk to Jacob should he stay in your care, Doctor Isles. Not only to his safety and well-being, but also to the viability of this case. The ADA assigned to the case called me yesterday and told me in no uncertain terms that I had to find a place for Jacob that was not with either of you."

Her eyes flutter closed. Jane knew this was coming. Frost and Korsak had both tried to warn her, hell, even Frankie had commented on it. There was no way that she could have her cake and eat it too. She loved Jake, he was a good kid, it wouldn't work out.

Not right now.

"That is unacceptable," Maura's voice is short and angry. Jane's rarely heard her like this, rarely heard her barely contained rage half-hidden behind a polite smile and closed-off eyes. The amount of venom contained within those three words is enough to make Jane flinch, pull away - still tethered as she is to Maura through their interlocked fingers that Maura has steadfastly not relinquished.

"Doctor Isles, your testimony is going to be pivotal to this case - if the defense can at all pose the theory..." Spencer Jones' voice is almost exasperated. Jane wants to strangle him for not realizing how close they've become to Jake, how close Jake has made them.

But what does he know? He's just doing his fucking god-awful job and Jane can't judge him.

Her temper is rising; her hand on Maura's side is shaking. She's in shock, disbelief. She never even thought this would happen.

Everyone had talked about it, no one had acted like it was a fact that things would come to a head like this.

There's a resolute set to Maura's chin and Jane turns to stare at her, she looks almost _regal_ in her defiance of this proclamation. Jane realizes just how much Jake means to Maura, an orphan who found another orphan. How had she not seen it before?

Jane feels like an idiot as Maura speaks her piece. "I do not care, this is no longer your call - I signed the guardianship papers."

There! The light at the end of this dark tunnel. If Maura had indeed signed those papers, the only way that they could take Jake from them would be to prove that Maura and Jane were providing unfit care for him - an impossibility. They're too good for Jake; he's too good for them. An improper and under informed family, cultural and racial differences that Jane can't even begin to understand.

He's just a kid.

Jane hangs her head. There's no way out. Defeatist attitude notwithstanding, she clings to the hope for the future.

It's a fool's hope.

"You signed the _conditional_ forms for emergency placement." Spencer's tone is gentle now. He must know that they're both not entirely comfortable with what has just happened. That he's ripping their hearts right out of their chests and is apparently relishing in the moment. He's too nice a guy for that and Jane knows that. She leans back, a quiet and resigned expression on her face as Spencer continues, "There is a different and it is a stark one. I cannot tell you how horrible this is going to be, to pull Jacob away from such a stable environment..."

Jane finds her voice, "Then don't. We'll find some other way, an open and shut case. As it is we think we have it pretty open and shut - DNA will prove it, I just know it."

There's agitation in Spencer's voice again, annoyance and disbelief. Jane wants to smack him, to tell him that there's no way that they could have fucking known that this was going to happen. "When the results come in, what then? You're deeply involved with Jacob and your involvement alone should gotten you kicked off the case - I'm shocked that your Lieutenant did not take you off before then."

"The situation with Jake was ... temporary..." Maura begins and then stops herself the phone pitching forward and onto her lap, Spencer's voice muffled. "I..." She turns to Jane and Jane can see the tears in her eyes. They had no idea that this was going to happen.

Jesus this sucks.

No one should ever have to see such a beautiful woman cry.

Jane moves, gathering Maura to her, holding her closely, picking up the phone and balancing it between two fingers. Her chin is on Maura's shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her. Jane can feel Maura shaking.

"I know that you really would like to take him, Doctor Isles, but I think that you must respect the decision of CPS to place Jake." Spencer's voice is kind, his tone suggests sympathy. Jane doesn't think it's genuine, but she's not going to call him out for it. She's in shock, terrified, desperate for reason. "We've found him good people."

"How long?" Jane asks. It's all she can think of.

"Sunday afternoon." Spencer explains, "Tomorrow."

"Jesus." Jane breathes. Maura won't stop shaking.

"That gives you a full day to explain the situation to him." Jane wants to punch him for real this time. There is no reason for that. Why do she and Maura have to be the ones to tell Jake that he's being sent away because he's making it hard for Jane and Maura to do their job and put the man who'd ruined his happy existence behind bars? It did not seem fair, but Jane isn't going to argue with him now. She'll say what she had to say later, when she could have Spencer Jones alone. Preferably with her fists, but Jane is an adult – she'll probably just tell him off for fucking up her life. "I wish you the best of luck."

Maura's voice is trembles as she speaks; Jane's hand presses wide against the small of her back in silent support. "Wait - Spencer. Is there any way that we could get him back?"

"It is unlikely." Spencer sighs and says his goodbyes, leaving Jane and Maura shell-shocked, huddled together against this great injustice.

* * *

Jake sits at the island in Maura's kitchen. He's drawing in a coloring book that Maura had procured from work. Jane is pacing. Up and down the length of the kitchen, Jo following her with gusto and Bass' head bobbing in time with her steps as they hit the floor. Jane hates having an audience, hates animals, hates everything.

"You're gunna make a hole in the floor," Jake says, setting down his crayon and carefully considering which one to use next. He looks so innocent, so content. Jane doesn't have the heart to tell him what she has to. Maura's upstairs, trying to compose herself, Jane said she'd tell Jake.

It's for the best.

"I'm thinking," Jane says, not looking at him. "Someone told me some very bad news today, Jake."

She can't tell him, she doesn't have the heart.

This is the worst fucking thing.

"Jake, you remember Spencer Jones?" Jane asks. She's stopped, leaning against the island, hair falling down into her eyes. She can't look at Jake, she has anguish written on every aspect of her visage. It's stupid, pointless, horrible. How could she ever do this to another person?

"Yeah," Jake says, a stray lock falling into his eye. He brushes it aside. "He gave me a family."

Jane feels her heart breaking, she knows why Maura couldn't do this. Maura who is a little bit socially retarded at the best of times, Maura who could never find the words that Jane feels tumbling out of her mouth. "Jake, buddy, we're not your family."

He looks confused, fingers opening and closing around his crayons. "You're not?"

Jane shakes her head, "No. Spencer let you stay with us while he found someone better for you - someone who doesn't have to work all the time like Maura and I do. Someone like Valarie." What doesn't come out is everything else she wants to say:

 _Jake, Buddy, you can't stay with us because we're too new at this. We're not straight, we can't give you the heteronormative family that CPS will want. We're not black, we can't raise you to understand what will be your own personal struggle with systemic racism and horrible disparities between the color of our skin and the color of yours. We're not prepared to teach you as we don't understand. There are so many reasons why we're bad for you and yet all I want is for you to stay._

"But I like you." Jake says, a child's logic – infallible. "And I like Maura." He's folded his arms across his chest, a tiny, angry scowl crossing his face as he glares as best an almost five-year-old can at Jane. "I want to stay with you."

She sinks down, leaning against the front of Maura's oven. It's cold against her back through the thin material of her t-shirt. "Jake, you can't," her voice is hoarse, like she's been screaming. "Your being here puts everything in jeopardy."

"Jeopardy?" Jake asks. He's climbed down from the stool he'd been on, and is squatting in front of Jane. He's peering at her with a darkly intense look on his face. Jane smiles back at him.

Jane pushes her hair out of her eyes. "It means that it isn't for sure." She reaches out, smooths the locks of hair on Jake's head. They feel like little worms, carefully locked into place. "You remember how I told you that I'd catch the monster who hurt Valarie and Emma?"

He nods, pushing Jane's hand away. "You promised."

"I always keep my promises," Jane says. This will be the death of her someday. "If I want to do that, you can't be here. There is this thing called conflict of interest. It means that if I'm taking care of you, that the person who is going to help the monster in court is going to try and say that I arrested him because of how much I care about you."

He's too young, he's not going to understand that. Jane shakes her head, a sad smile marring her face as she stares at the little boy she's grown so attached to. "Jake, buddy, I can't do it to you. The monster has to be caught."

Jake thinks about this for a long time, falling backwards onto the floor, his feet pressing together as he contemplates. His twisted downwards into a frown and Jane feels so terrible for him. She's gone and done it now.

He starts to cry. "I want to stay with you."

Jane pulls him to her, holding him close. "I know you do buddy."

Her heart is breaking, and Maura's standing in the doorway, hand clapped over her mouth. Jane turns to her, seeing her heart breaking.

This is the worst fucking thing.

Jake sobs and Maura lingers just outside of Jane's field of vision. Fingers trace soothing motions on Jake's back that soon turn into wails. Jane doesn't try to reason with him. She's numb, she cannot think, cannot breathe.

He quiets, and Jane rocks him back and forth. She has no idea how to be a mother. She's doing it here, effortlessly.

What is going on?

Jane knows that she's not ready for this. She's known that for a long time - but this has come so naturally to them both that it almost seemed right.

Her phone rings. Jake has cried himself to sleep in her lap and Jane's ass is sore from sitting on Maura's kitchen floor. Maura answers it as Jane can't exactly move without waking Jake.

"Hello?" Maura's face frowns, "Yes, she's currently occupied, what is it Barry?" There are a few minutes of conversation where Maura nods and seems to brighten visibly. "I will tell her, thank you."

Maura hangs up and sets the phone back down on the counter. "DNA has come back, confirmed as Davis Benoit."

That is the best fucking news that Jane's heard all goddamn day. She hooks her hands more tightly around Jake and hauls herself to her feet. He stirs against her and Maura steps forward. It is her turn to tell Jake now, it will not be nearly as painful the second time around.

"The game's afoot," Jane mutters, brushing her lips against Maura's cheek. "I'm so sorry about all this."

Maura shakes her head. "Don't be. This is out of our control."

Jane doesn't say that she's not sure that she's ready for parenting like this. That maybe this is for the best. She doesn't want to break Maura's heart even further.


	9. Executive Decisions

It comes in waves, the grief, and then the sorrow. Jane is resolute in her dedication to going through with it. Mr. and Mrs. Jeffery are quite a nice couple, unable to have children of their own, fostering to adoption. They are well off, he's a high school football coach and vice principle, she's in some sort of medical research field through Harvard. They're good people, qualified people, they love the Sox.

This is actually a standard that Jane will not back down on.

Jake will be perfect for them. He's talking to Mr. Jeffery now, Alec - about baseball and statistics. Jane can see that Mr. Jeffery is impressed. His eyebrows are raised high and his big hands are clasped around Jake's little ones to keep him from shaking as he excitedly talks. It's almost sick it's so adorable.

"Thank you," Mrs. Jeffery says to Maura, holding back and hovering by the door. Jane turns, watching them with narrowed eyes. She knows that Maura did not want to be here, that she's taking this a lot harder than Jane is brave enough to show.

Can't be weak, can't show defeat.

Stay strong for Maura.

"Thank you for giving him a place when he had none."

Maura's eyes are sad and quiet, "It was nothing..." She looks away, "I wanted to keep him."

"Why didn't you then?" Mrs. Jeffery asks and Maura swallows, Jane can see her throat expand and then contract - and she hates this. She wants to go to Maura, to tell her that it will be alright. It won't be though. Not for a long time.

"We're too close to the case," Maura supplies in a hesitant voice. "CPS did not think it wise."

Jane clears her throat and Mrs. Jeffery turns to watch as she pulls on her jacket. The weather is cold and rainy today, much like Jane's mood. She's got to go arrest Davis Benoit; she's got to do it soon before he figures out that they're on to him. The DA had wanted to wait until Monday, but Frost had rushed the arrest warrant over his head and straight to a judge.

They prefer it that way, that way the doubt is all but gone. They had him dead to rights as it was. The one silver lining to this already horrible situation.

"I have to go to work," Jane says quietly, nodding to Mr. Jeffery. They've talked to Jake, promised to visit if his new family allows it. She doesn't know that they will. They're a lot of bad memories of the worst time in his life for Jake. Jane wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to see them again.

Her hand finds Maura's and she pulls, gently. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

Jake is crying now, pulling his hands free of Mr. Jeffery's and running over to throw his arms around Maura's knees. He stays there until Maura bends and picks him up. There's not much she can say, but as he buries his nose in her hair, Jane can see Maura's heart breaking a little inside. It just isn't fair. Nothing about this is fair, but it is how life goes.

"Bud," Jane begins, stepping closer, into Maura's personal space. "You gotta be good for them okay?"

Jake nods, still crying into Maura's shoulder. "I will," he promises.

"We'll visit," It sounds an empty promise. Easily made, easily broken. She's not one of those people. Jane always keeps her promises. Even at the end of the day, when she's had nothing but misery all day, she will keep her promises.

Jane turns, crossing over to offer her hand to Mr. Jeffery. "Alec," she says quietly, "teach him how to play ball."

Mr. Jeffery laughs, "I'm not much of a baseball guy, but I know a few things."

"Football's too dangerous, he's small." Jane points out.

They both smile, "He's got a few years before that's even an option, Detective Rizzoli." Peewee football didn't start until kids were around eleven or so anyway.

Jane tells herself when she walks away that that will not be the last time she sees Jacob Turman. Maura's fingers slip into her hand and Jane squeezes reassuringly. This is for the best.

In the car she falls apart, Maura's arms around her in the CPS parking lot. She wants to die, wants to go back in there and tell them no. Jake is theirs, they were the ones who gave him what he needed when he needed it most. It isn't fair.

Neither is life.

* * *

 

Davis Benoit's downtown apartment building is quiet as Jane directs the backup team to cover the rear entrance. There are a few lights on, but it's midafternoon on a Sunday and most normal, sensible people are either out at church, or just enjoying the city. Boston has a lot to offer, Jane's never felt compelled to leave it.

Jane knows better than to expect Davis Benoit to be out. He's a writer, obsessive. He'll stay in and finish what he's started.

Frost's face is drawn into a hard line. It's been like that all day, since Jane came in to work and took her murderous mood out on the bullpen at large as they put together an assault plan. She hadn't meant it, well not much. She is just so angry at the whole situation and there is so little that she could do about it. She knew that it was the right decision for Jake and she hated herself for being okay with that.

They glance at each other, speaking the language that only partners on the job can. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs. She doesn't really know if he's there. They've ascertained that his car is at least. That's _something_.

"Are you ready?" She whispers, covering her radio mouthpiece with her hand and tilting her head towards the door where swat is already getting ready to kick down the door.

His grin is almost manic, and Jane knows then that he's on board. "I was born ready, Jane." He boasts, cocking his gun and stepping behind the swat commander.

The signal is given and they spring into action. Jane follows Officer Jiminez, an older and veteran SWAT guy that plays on the BPD hockey team in the winter. Jane can't afford to play the sport on her salary, the gear's too expensive, but she tries to go to as many games as she's able to. Gotta support the boys in blue.

"Stairwell's clear," Jane mutters into her radio, stepping around the first floor landing and moving up towards the second level. Her feet are silent on the stairs and she takes them slowly and cautiously. She's only got a vest on, she'll let the SWAT guys go first. It's their job after all, why they're paid more and have better gear.

Benoit's apartment door is at the end of a hallway, Jane waits as Jiminez knocks on the door, shouting that he has a search warrant and then kicking down the door. They're all moving as one, cutting into the small and creepily empty space. Benoit is there, shouting, Jane raises her gun, and he falls to his knees, hands held up in surrender.

Jane bends down and begins to recite Miranda as she cuffs him. He's wanting to know what the charges are, what he's done. Jane scowls at him, and tells him that he should know. He wrote it all down in his fucking novel after all.

She's not having a good day, but she's a professional. She won't beat the guy up just because she can. She's not one of those kinds of cops - at least not on a bad day.

They get Benoit situated in a cruiser and Jane pulls out her cell phone. Her fingers are shaking as she pushes the speed dial button for Maura. She doesn't know what to say when Maura picks up on the second ring.

"Jane?" Maura's voice is quiet, but Jane knows concern when it's barely veiled behind Maura's already transparent 'nonchalant' tone.

She exhales, hand resting on the cool metal of the outside of the cruiser. Benoit is cussing out the duty officer sitting in the driver's seat; she can hear his muffled curses through the door. "We got 'im, Maura. We have him."

Maura seems to sigh in relief. She hums passively, "It's nice when you do something on the job that doesn't make more work for me."

Jane wants to stick her tongue at Maura. She knows that Maura loves the work and that's why she does it. God knew that Maura didn't need to work, and yet she got up at five every morning to make her shifts and to get her run in before.

"I'm really grateful," Jane muttered, stepping away from the crowd of officers gathered around the car. This case had been so easy, really. He'd left DNA at the crime scene, under Valarie Richard's fingernails, and on his book that Jake had so helpfully liberated from him. Jane was positive that if they were to go through his apartment that they'd find the remnants of the clothing he'd worn that night.

Davis Benoit would have wanted to relive what he'd done, Jane was sure of that. It was part of the fun, the thrill of the whole thing.

"Mn?" Maura prompted as Jane had trailed off, thinking about the case.

"Grateful to Jake," Jane said quietly. The loss of him cut through her like a knife but Jane wasn't an idiot. She knew that it had to be this way. That Jake would be loved and cared for and probably even adopted by his new family. "He brought us together."

She knows Maura agrees with her. Maura doesn't need to say it, but Jane's happy when she does anyway. "It was too soon."

Jane hates being the only one who can truly voice such opinions. She didn't want to say it to Maura before. It didn't seem fair to tell someone you are so newly in love with that having a child would further complicate and potentially ruin matters. She just wanted them both to be happy. Jake too, even if she hated that he had to go.

"We're too soon," Jane agrees. Maybe someday, in the far-off future, if this works out better than just being friends, they can think about having a family again. For now their family is two turtles, a dog and two people. The aching wound that Jake left at his departure will close with time, Jane's mother hand promised her that. "It's not fair to us or to Jake to put him through it."

Maura makes an affirmative noise and Jane hears Frost and Korsak calling her name. "Look, I gotta go," Jane begins, speaking quickly as she walks back through the crowd of officers and SWAT guys now starting to take off some of their body armor. "We gotta get this guy booked. I don't know if I'll interview him tonight or tomorrow, but regardless, I'll be home at the usual time."

"Alright." Maura says. "I will see you then."

"Bye," Jane hangs up and turns to Korsak, who's grinning like a mad man. "He's confessed half of it already. Murphy – he's the duty officer – is recording him on the onboard camera in the car."

Jane gives a quiet whoop (there might have been a fist bump too) and then sighs. At least some justice will be done for Jake. If he confesses and takes the charges offered to him instead of dragging it to trial, this can all go away sooner and they – especially Jake – can move on with their lives.

She rides with the duty officer back to the station, listing to Benoit ramble on about stuff. He's talking about Hitchcock now, how the movie _Rope_ gave him the idea in the first place and how most excellent an idea it was. Jane wasn't about to correct him with some googlemouth of her own about how it was actually based on a play and shouldn't he look into his opus before he, you know, did a thing?

The booking process is long and arduous. Jane hates it, always has. She gets fingerprinting ink on her fingers and then all over the paperwork and the duty clerk scowls at her as she doesn't wipe it up. She doesn't give two shits, but honestly, it's annoying to come back to it later.

Three hours later they have Benoit sitting in Interview One waiting for his lawyer. Jane knows the guy, Alan. He's a decent enough sort of a guy, totally a stuffed shirt and Jane doesn't much care for guys like him to begin with – but he'll give Benoit the best defense he can while being undeniably guilty.

"Why'd he do it, Rizzoli?" Alan Larkin, all boyish good looks and a smug smile, asks as he pins his visitor's pass to the lapel of his jacket.

Jane makes a dismissive gesture with her hand and goes back to her report. "Wanted to know how it felt," she shrugs as she checks a box on the form.

Alan's face falls and he mutters, "Oh _goody_."

She smirks across the desk at Frost as Alan Larkin is buzzed into Interview One to meet his clearly crazy client.

* * *

 

It's late when Jane gets back to Maura's, later than she intended. Larkin had wanted to discuss pleas already, and Jane had pointed out that it was a Sunday night and they were lucky to have gotten a fucking arrest warrant. He was welcome to wake up the DA if that was what he wanted, Jane was going home.

The drive was uneventful and when Jane pulls into Maura's driveway, she sees Jo Friday in the window, barking excitedly at her. She smiles, puts the car in park and heads inside.

"Honey," she calls when she is finally inside and Jo has been given a good pat and her shoes are off. "I'm home."

From the kitchen, Jane can hear Maura chuckle.

She smiles, it comes easily to her face even after the day she's had. Maura's always managed to do that, always managed to take what little cheer Jane can find in a situation and bring it out full tilt. Jane likes it, she can have fun with Maura without feeling the pressures of her job, of her _life_.

Maura is drinking wine at the island in the kitchen, holding the glass between her thumb and forefinger. It's a smaller glass, one that's not actually meant for wine, but for sherry, or something else that ladies in the twenties would drink like fish. Maura found them at a yard sale in New Hampshire last summer and fell in love with them, all rose pink and depression glass.

If Jane hadn't hated yardsaling with a passion, she would have been quite happy for Maura.

"Sorry that that took a while," Jane mutters, tossing her keys onto the counter and pulling her gun and badge off of her belt. She sets them both down there, grateful for the first time that she did not have to worry about a small child getting his hands on them. It's a horrible thing to think, but Jane knew that it was a good thing. So much about their lives was not geared toward children, and while they were a happy family for a week – it probably wouldn't last much longer than Jake deciding that he wanted to play with Jane's gun.

"When you mentioned Alan Larkin, I figured that it might," Maura says with pursed lips as she takes another sip of wine. "he's rather long-winded."

Jane takes the wine glass from her hands and leans down to kiss Maura. She tastes like the wine she's drinking, sour and tart. Not the best year, in Jane's opinion, but Maura seems to like it – bitter aftertaste and all.

"I missed you," Jane whispers, confession filling her heart.

Maura's fingers twine together with her own and Jane slumps down onto the stool next to Maura. She can't look at her then, she misses Jake and the easy companionship that the three of them had too much in that moment.

She won't let this destroy them before they can really get started.

"I saw you this morning, and at lunch," Maura points out.

Jane sighs. "The guys at work are looking at me as though I'll break – because of what happened with Jake." She hates it. She knows that they all knew it was the right thing to do. Hell, they even encouraged it to some degree (Frost more than anyone else) and yet she hates it all the same. It is a personal loss, a solved case for the department, and Jane is fucking miserable. "I'm not made of glass."

"It's understandable," Maura agrees. Jane looks at her then, so beautiful, so wounded. They did this to themselves, they should have let Spencer Jones take Jake on Monday, before they could get even a little attached. "It's a recent wound."

There are no words to say to that. Jane leans forward and kisses Maura again, this time fully on the mouth. Her hands tangle in Maura's hair, reveling in the softness of it, of how good she feels. She's not going to let this break them. They are too good, this is too wonderful.

"Maur," Jane breathes, their lips just barely parted. "I can't let this destroy us."

Maura lips are smiling as she leans forward. "I don't think it ever could."

They kiss long into the night, their bodies losing feel of anything but the world around them. They both know, somewhere in Boston, a little boy that changed their lives for the better is tucked into a warm bed with a family that is just now growing to love him.

And all was well.

 **Epilogue**

"We're gunna be late!" Jane calls up the stairs as she puts on her coat. Its mid-April, and the first game of the little league season is today. Jane requested the day off weeks ago and Maura made sure that the scheduling at the ME's office would ensure that she was not even remotely, possibly, on call for the day.

Maura comes down the stairs in a pair of jeans and running shoes. Jane takes a moment to let that sink in as Maura finishes buttoning up what is quite obviously Jane's favorite flannel shirt.

"You're wearing my shirt," Jane says, opening the closet door and rummaging for Maura's jacket.

Maura gives her an impish smile. "You weren't wearing it."

Jane rolls her eyes and tosses Maura her coat. "I don't suppose that you're wearing my socks too."

They've been living together for close to six months now. It's as easy as Jane thought it would be, their bodies were already accustomed to being around each other constantly, and it saves Jane a lot of money on rent. Her mother hadn't been particularly thrilled – and had mentioned something about living together out of wedlock being a sin. Jane had rolled her eyes at that as everything about this relationship, by that vernacular, would be a sin, and had told her mother to just shut up and help her move.

And it had worked.

"Oh my god no," Maura looks horrified. "Even though I live with you the idea of sharing the bacteria that clearly is growing on your socks is just…" She shivers uncontrollably, look of disgust creeping across her face.

Jane grins wolfishly at Maura as she trails off, wiggling her eyebrows and trying to goad an even more hilarious reaction of Maura.

She is ignored, her face falls, and Maura tosses Jane a hat from somewhere in the hall closet. It's got the logo of the team they're going to see on it, Jane smiles.

"Did you get them made?"

"No, Alec Jeffery sent me them when I told him that we were going to go to the game," Maura explained, producing another and pulling it onto her head. She looked ridiculous, adorable, beautiful. So many things all at once.

"You're amazing," Jane says, keys in hand.

It had only been six months, but they could already see the change in Jake. They'd seen him a few times. The Jeffery family was probably going to add Jake as a permanent member and Jane was really happy for them both – he deserved the happiness.

Benoit had plead out – Alan Larkin was good for something after all, it seemed. Jane was grateful that Jake had been spared the ordeal of a trial. No one had needed to look at those horrible images again, Jake least of all.

The little league field is in a park on the other side of town, Maura drives, Jane contemplates the GPS and moodily stews as Maura meticulously maintains the speed limit. They arrive, somehow, right on time.

There are parents there, of every race that Jane can think of and then some. Maura doesn't live in a diverse neighborhood like this, hell, when Jane lived in town she didn't live with this much diversity. She likes it, its gunna be good for Jake.

She can see him sitting with the older boys now, tossing a ball back and forth in the back of the bullpen.

Kid's got moves, Jane leans into Maura. "He looks happy," she whispers.

Maura's eyes are sad, but they're shining with something that might be pride. "I know."

Jake hits a home run in the bottom of the fifth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is the end. This story has been such an amazing joy for me to write. Thank you everyone for reading along with me. I tried to make it as bittersweet a happy ending as I could. The story was hard to finish, I got eaten by Warehouse 13, but mostly I didn't want to continue to destroy the happiness I'd built for Jane and Maura. So I made it better. I hope you enjoy.


End file.
